The Traveller
by tthorn
Summary: Condemned to die, Harry Potter grasps life. It will take him far away from everything he knows and change him in ways that many will tremble to see. He will witness the war to end all wars and in it he shall make a name that will last until all life in all the worlds ceases. Multicrossover Powerful, Political Harry
1. Chapter 1 : Re-done

**AN: Unlike my earlier rewrite, this is more an editing than a rewriting as there as some inconsistences that need to be sorted out. This story will also no longer be a multicrossover as when I got to seventeen chapters and not yet at the War of the Ring I thought it was getting a bit long and so now this is a stand alone story.**

**I will be redoing chapters two at a time and as it is not a full rewrite hope to have each batch of chapters out every couple of days but we will have to see. For me this is the start of a reintroduction into the Traveller, this inconsistences are ones I need to sort out before I continue. The first couple of chapters will have very few changes but there will be some, and a lot more in later ones.**

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The Traveller

Chapter 1

_From the earliest times of the awakening of men there was a legend. A prophecy that foretold the coming of a man who would free man from the shackles that it bore and set it free. One who would sweep away the old order and replace it with something infinitely better._

_It was from this foretelling that the prophecy received it names; the Foretelling of the Flood. For he who was coming would be like a flood, impossible to control and sweeping away all in its wake. And now he was coming. _

_ Chronicle of the Coming of the Flood_

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"Harry James Potter, you are hereby found guilty by this court on the charges of breaking into Ministry property, the murder of several upstanding members of our community and the use of a Grade 1 banned spell, the Cruciatus Curse. This court sentences you to death by the use of the Veil of Death in the very department into which you broke."

Harry was not surprised by the verdict, he knew it would go against him. Seconds, seconds were what had made the difference. Had Fudge and the rest of the Ministry arrived a couple of seconds earlier they would have seen Voldemort face to face but they hadn't and nobody believed Harry when he had said that he was there.

His friends had all been forced to testify against him, they were given a choice; do so or suffer the same fate. Harry was unsurprised that they did, not after Dumbledore chose the same option. In his apology to Harry, which wasn't much of an apology, he said that there had to be someone there to fight Voldemort and if they were both executed by the Ministry then there was no hope. Harry agreed but couldn't help thinking that he would have preferred it for Dumbledore to take the punishment rather than himself.

He didn't even try to fight as he was lead out of the courtroom and down into bowels of the Department of Mysteries. He didn't even try to fight when they took his wand and broke it, hanging to broken pieces around his neck with a piece of string, laughing as they did so. Fighting would only help people to believe in the cock-and-bull story that Fudge had come up with. It amused Harry that although the Fudge administration was incompetence at governing the country, they were most certainly competent politicians able to spin the story any way they chose, unfortunately for Harry it was against him.

Now because of this it would be known throughout the wizarding world that Harry Potter had tried to break into the Ministry to steal something from the Department of Mysteries and in so doing killing a couple of notable purebloods in society who had happened to come upon him. In reality of course he hadn't killed them, one had been killed by a collapsing ceiling that had been hit by a curse, the other had taken another Death Eater's slicing curse to his face. But to the rest of the wizarding world it would look like Harry had killed them, exactly as the Minister wanted.

As they entered the veil room and Harry looked upon the heinous monstrosity that had taken his godfather from him, he saw the scene of Sirius falling replaying itself again and again in his mind. Once he was positioned within touching distance of the Veil, the charges and verdict against him were read out once more. When they had finished the two aurors who were holding him moved into position and with one last push he was thrown through.

*******The Traveller**********

Harry landed with a thump, striking a hard rock floor with such force that his bones and muscles ached from the impact. After lying on the ground for a couple of seconds to allow the ache from the new up and coming bruises on his body to lessen, Harry tried to drag himself up into a sitting position.

Then a foot came down hard on his back, pushing him back down onto the floor.

"What do we have here, if it isn't a little runt," a harsh voice spoke, "he will do well for the mines."

A hand grasped him by the back of the neck, hauling him up. Harry saw where he was now, he was in a city or a town of some sort and it was burning, there were bodies all over the ground and he could see a great cloud of smoke stretching out into the skies above. The stench of burning corpses was overpowered by the smell of whatever was holding him. The person who was holding him turned him so as to look at his face.

The first thing Harry saw was an incredibly ugly and scarred face, vaguely resembled of the goblins that Harry knew and well, not quite loved, but accepted anyway. Whatever this thing was it was bigger, almost human size with a lot more muscles. Its dress was made up of scraps and what looked like whatever it could find. In the background behind they could see another whole host of them assembled behind checking some humans and searching the bodies of the dead. Harry watched in horror as one ripped open the skull of the bodies, raising a handful of grey matter to his mouth. His attention was brought back to his captor by a hand that forcibly grabbed his chin, forcing him to look back into that ugly face.

"You're a proper runt," the ugly face sneered, "perhaps you won't serve in the mines after all, we might be allowed a little snack after all our hard work. What's that?"

The creature had noticed the remains of Harry's wand hanging round his neck. In a moment of inspiration Harry remembered Hagrid and his wand, broken although possible to use. He really did not want to be eaten.

"Expelliarmus!"

The creature flew back, crashing into a couple of the other creatures sending them down to the ground. Harry used the confusion that followed to quickly get a better grip of his wand and to look for a way out but there was none that he could see. The confusion and noise of fighting had drawn more of them and they were pouring out of the side streets and soon he was totally surrounded by a tight ring of them.

They stood for a moment in hesitation before one of the bolder ones took the initiative and charged at Harry, waving a rusty sword above his head.

"Confringo!"

The blasting curse turned the creature's insides to mush and he toppled over, black blood leaking from his wounds onto the stone cobbled ground.

Silence reigned over the street in which they were standing, the creatures shifting uneasily. Finally another of them pushed his way to the front. This was one was different from all the others who surrounded him, it wore a robe covered in patterns depicting a red eye wreathed in flame and held in his hand a staff, a staff with what looked like human bones and skulls attached to it.

It paused for a moment before shaking his staff and pointing it at Harry, uttering some words that Harry really did not understand. He did understand what happened next though as a fireball left the staff and drove at Harry, who had to throw himself to the ground to avoid it.

The fireball, having passed by Harry, hit the ranks of the assembled creatures behind him , causing many of them to be consumed in flame and quickly burnt to a cinder. The magic wielding creature really didn't seem to care about the havoc it was wrecking upon its own side but just continued throwing fireballs at Harry, cackling madly as it did so.

Diving out the way of the whirling balls of death Harry started to respond with his own curses, cutting and blasting ones in particular; the scenes of death around him were enough that an already pissed Harry was ready to go to the next level.

Harry soon realised that he would be overcome very quickly, for though from the looks of it the creature sorcerer had very little spells to use, he unlike Harry was fresh and not wielding a broken wand. The sorcerer was just blocking many of Harry's curses, which weak as they were already was easy to do and those that hit were having little effect. He needed to do something drastic.

Looking around at the savaged corpses of men, woman and children and imagining the pain he would be in as these creatures ate him, he mustered all his hatred into a single spell. The bright green of the Killing Curse crossed the gap between them, broke through the weak shield that the creature brought to bear and smacked into it. With a slight wobble, the creature slowly toppled and hit the deck.

At once the creatures began a fearsome frenzy of noise, until something said a word. Harry turned around.

There before him was a cloaked figure which had the same feel as the Dementors, cold and fear inspiring but where the Dementor floated this rode for it was mounted on a huge black steed and Harry could see the glimmerings of armour underneath its robes. There was little doubt the thing was not human.

"What's your name, human?" it said in a rattle of a voice.

"Potter," Harry said, doing his best James Bond impression, "Harry Potter!"

One of the creatures sniggered at the name, and Harry's slicing hex took his head clean from his shoulders.

"Potter," it seemed to muse, "an unusual name, where are you from Potter."

"Not here," Harry said humorously, looking around, "I got banished here by another wizard that I didn't quite get along with."

The thing seemed to lose patience, "where in Middle Earth are you from, mortal! Rohan? Gondor?"

Now Harry was confused, the Arch was obviously a portal but a portal from where to where? The only possibility he could think of was he had been thrown to another dimension.

"None of those places," Harry said, raising his voice, "I know not of them either, nor this Middle Earth of which you speak."

One of the creatures burst through the ring, a club of some sort raised "the maggot lies, my lord, let me teach him some manners!"

The cloaked figure just looked at him and raised a mailed hand and said something Harry didn't understand and the creature was totally and utterly disintegrated. Harry was fucked now, he saw that. He had killed some of their men and now they had a wizard on their side who would have dwarfed Harry when he was fresh and with a fixed wand.

"I will give you a choice, wizard," the cloaked figure spoke, "serve my master or be my servants' reward for their work."

Hard choice Harry thought to himself, not. Be alive or be creature food, I think I will go with the alive bit. It's not like I can escape at this moment, not with whatever it was there ready to destroy him in a moment's notice, and besides even if this lord of his turns out to be this world's version of Voldemort, he could just escape at a later point.

"I'll take the first option," Harry said.

If anything the creatures looked slightly disappointed, although Harry wasn't regretting not giving them a feast, he rather liked his body as it was certainly better than being torn into hundreds of different pieces and eaten.

The cloaked figure spoke again in its spooky voice, "Murad, he's yours!"

A figure standing beside the black spectre raised his hand and Harry felt dizzy. Seconds later he was crashing to the ground and soon all he knew was blackness.


	2. Chapter 2 : Re-done

**AN: Right here is the second chapter, just for the record I own neither the Lord of the Rings nor Harry Potter. At the same time I hope you enjoy my work.**

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Chapter 2

Harry sat sprawled on the ground, his lungs filled with the dust kicked up by the vast column of soldiers on the march. He and the other prisoners were being allowed an hours rest before they restarted their march to wherever their destination was.

While they had been resting Harry had been talking with some of the other prisoners and had begun to start piecing together where he was and what was happening. He was now certain that the Arch was some sort of portal and that meant there was a chance that Sirius might still be alive, all Harry needed to do was find him in a world that he didn't know and from the sound of it was the same size as his own at least if not larger.

His situation was also now a lot more clear; he had been recruited into one of the Dark Lord's sorcerer cells under the command of one Murad, the man who was responsible for Harry's stinking headache. Whilst he had been unconscious they had fitted some sort of magic suppressing bonds around his hands which were supposed to prevent him from doing magic, it was working what Harry could feel as whereas normally he could feel that something in the back of his mind that was his magic, now there was nothing.

They were heading towards a place called Minas Morgul, a city if Harry was able to understand what his fellow prisoners were talking about properly. It was apparently the home of the Black Riders as well as being the base for the Dark Lord's magic users, though after hearing this the talk fell to whispers and Harry had to pretend not to notice the looks sent his way. Clearly the user of magic were as distrusted in this world as they were in the days when magic was known to the muggles of Harry's world.

At the moment they were sitting waiting in a small valley overlooked by a series of cliffs and scree slopes which was covered in dense foliage. A perfect place for an ambush Harry thought reflectively as the order came down the line to move out.

Just as Harry was getting to his feet he heard an odd whistling sound and moments later the guard who had been forcing him to his feet toppled, three arrows stuck into his back. Immediately there were shouts and the rest of the company were surging to their feet to meet their ambusher.

The arrows continued to rain on them, orcs fell with arrows sticking out of their bodies and faces making them look like some sort of mutated hedgehog. Some of human guards who had horses nearby leapt upon them, riding hard in the direction of the front of the column but more often than not they never made it instead pierced through with arrow shafts. The area was chaos, filled with dying orcs and men, panicking horses and the prisoners huddled together, desperately trying to avoid being hit themselves with the arrows.

Harry could see vaguely shadows in the outcrop above them, areas where there was a patch of darker green or when green showed up on some sand. These he guessed were their ambushers, high up where they could continue to pour arrows down upon those caught in the dip.

It happened in seeming slow motion. Harry could see the arrow before it was anywhere near him, everything around him seemed to slow and memories flashed through his mind as often happened with those about to die. Harry frantically wished he was somewhere else as the arrow flew in a path that would end with it connecting with his body. Suddenly there was a squeezing sensation and Harry found the pressure of the magic suppressing cuffs disappearing.

He opened his eyes, just in time to duck an incoming arrow. He was not where he had been before, he was now ten metres out of the prisoner line and Harry could see where he had been lying, an arrow buried deep into the sand almost exactly where his body had lain.

Harry glanced around looking for a weapon when he saw one, the fire staff that had come from the orc shaman that Harry had killed that first day. One of the other orcs had appropriated it and Harry could see his body lying next to it an arrow through his eye. It was a dash of around metres and when Harry reached the body of the orc he used it as cover as he adjusted his grip on the staff.

His wand was still in the possession of that Murad person, who had been up the front with the majority of the magic users and the black rider which meant that retrieving it was at this stage almost impossible. What he needed to do was get the hell out of here as quickly as possible then follow the rest of the army until he could steal it back.

From the way that the arrows were falling Harry guessed that there were less of them, these mysterious ambushers, to his left and so after a particularly heavy volley of arrows Harry got to his feet and sprinted in that direction whilst the archers were reloading.

Harry ran breaking through bushes and low lying trees to get as much distance between himself and the battlefield as possible. The further he was the less chance that whoever found him would think that he was a combatant and so would be less likely to kill him. All of a sudden a figure dressed in green seemed to rise out of the ground in front of him blocking off any escape that way. Shouts from behind reminded Harry there was no escape that way either and so he raised his new staff imagining fire.

A huge fireball burst from his wand, crossing the gap between the two in a matter of seconds. The archer's eyes widen as he saw the flames heading in his direction and he loosened his arrow as well as diving out of the way. Both were ineffective as the flames engulfed first the arrow and then the archer, his pitiful wails bursting out as his skin was covered in black blisters.

The blackening figure keeled over, burnt to a crisp. Harry stood there for a moment looking at the first man who he had ever killed, the orcs back in that town did not count, but this had been a living, breathing man until he had met Harry. He had not meant to kill him, Harry had thought he would have dived out of the way but he hadn't and now he was dead. Shouts from behind alerted Harry to the fact that his pursuers were getting closer and soon they would be on him.

He leapt off back into the undergrowth, avoiding making as much noise as possible but knowing there was little chance that he would be able to avoid detection, particularly not if these people had any woodsmanship skills. A blind badger could probably track Harry but at the moment he wanted to get as much distance between them and him as possible.

An arrow whizzed through the air and burrowed itself in the trunk of a tree a couple of metres in front of him. Harry responded by sending a fireball back over his shoulder which set light to much of the undergrowth, leading to shouts of panic and anger from those hunting him as they were cut off by the flames. A couple of arrows coming from the sides caused Harry to realise that he was now almost totally surrounded, the only option lay in continuing to run forwards.

However now his pursuers were closer and so were able to get a much better aim, as the arrow that grazed his cheek showed. He leapt onto a rock and for a moment lost his balance, swaying slightly before he jumped off. That moment however was enough for the archers chasing him as first one and then two arrows thumped into his shoulder. Mere flesh wounds, they were not aimed to kill which meant that these men meant to take Harry as a captive.

Harry tried to stagger desperately onwards but the pain and blood loss was overcoming him and he knew he would soon be overtaken. After a couple of paces his legs gave way underneath him and he fell to his knees able to stay conscious long enough to see an arrow levelled at his face.

*****The Traveller*****

A feeling of water being doused over his head awoke Harry with a start and he looked around desperately but was unable to see anything other than blackness. Was he blind? Had his new captors taken out his eyes?

"Who are you, wizard?" a gruff voice said, Harry unable to pinpoint its direction. "Answer me!"

Harry was still dazed, desperately trying to work out whether or not he still had eyes. A pinprick of light piercing through the darkness revealed that he was just blindfolded. That restored some confidence, confidence which built as Harry realised that he was mostly unharmed. That was until his side suddenly ached with pain as someone's boot collided with it viscously.

"Answer me, damn you!"

A new voice, one more cultured than the other spoke up, "leave him, Damrod, I will deal with this!"

The gruffer voice seemed to acquiesce and Harry heard the sound of some moving around before the cultured voice order that Harry's blindfold and gag be removed. The sudden light to his eyes hurt and left his head pounding, they seemed to be a cave from what Harry could see and Harry was surrounded by a number of men in dark green cloaks armed with bows. A man pulled a stool and looked at Harry, he was wearing a green cloak like the others but it was clasp with what looked like a valuable broach and was wearing a leather chest-guard with a silver tree stitched delicately onto it.

"My name is Faramir, a captain of Gondor!" he spoke with the voice of the cultured man from before. "I am going to ask you of your master's plans, please answer truthfully."

"I don't know them!" Harry snapped angrily, "I was captured and held a prisoner by the orcs."

This Faramir raised his eyebrows, "if you were truly a prisoner then why did you not stay with the others so that we could free you, and then why did you attack my men whilst trying to escape?"

"Because they were shooting arrows at me," Harry snapped, "it's the normal thing to do when you get attacked, retaliating!"

"What town are you from then?" Faramir asked, changing tact.

Harry shook his head, "I am not from around here."

"But surely you must be," the ranger reasoned, "after all our scouts tracked the raiding party from Minas Morgul to the ambush site, so there is nowhere else they could have picked you up from. Which means that you must have come with them from the City of Sorcery, and why would they drag a prisoner out on a raiding party? From this you must admit all the evidence is pointing towards you being one of them."

It seemed to Harry like this Faramir really wished to believe Harry, but even the young wizard was willing to admit that his story suspicious at the very best, and could very easily be seen as downright treasonous to Harry's own health.

The session continued in that vein with Faramir asking more and more questions, all of which Harry didn't know the answer to. Both sides were getting more and more angry, or at least Faramir's men were, the captain himself seemed to remain calm.

After around half an hour of questioning Harry was beginning to get very frustrated, he had repeatedly told them he knew nothing of the Dark Lord's plans. Not surprisingly they viewed him as untrustworthy because he was a wizard and the only wizards they seemed to have regular contact with were those that served Mordor. He was sensible enough to not say he was from another world, that they most certainly would not believe not that Harry particularly cared.

Eventually Faramir sighed and got up from his stool and looked across at the one who had kicked Harry earlier, the one with the gruff voice.

"I have tried, but that didn't work," Faramir said looking down regretfully at Harry, "show him the lengths Gondor are willing to go to, Damrod!"

The other saluted and stood waiting until a great deal of the rangers and the man Faramir had left the section of cave in which they were currently sat. Once they were out of sight he gagged Harry again, more tightly this time so that Harry couldn't make a sound before going to over to the small fireplace in the corner of the room and pulling several arrows of his quiver and setting them down into the flames.

For a couple of minutes the only sound in the room was the crackle of the fire and Harry's laboured breathing around the strip of leather in his mouth. Then the gruff voiced man rose from his seat by the fire, holding something in his hand. Harry tried to turn his head desperately to see what it was but was held fast by his bindings. The man came into vision and Harry's eyes widen, he was holding one of the arrows he had put in the fire but now the tip was heated red hot and Harry had to bite down hard on his gag to prevent him from screaming as the red hot metal was pressed against his bare shoulder.

He almost fainted from the pain, his skin hissing as it charred black. His nerves were on fire, agony ripped its way through his body and his muscles began to spasm, causing his limbs to flail around.

"This is how Malbuck died, you Mordor piece of shit!" Damrod spat, reapplying the arrow to another part of Harry's side, "burnt to a crisp and here you are screaming out over this!"

He kicked Harry violently in the side before throwing away the arrow and going over to the fire to retrieve another one. The ranger looked back at Harry who lay half slumped over, the blistering black burn clearly evident upon the young man's shoulder.

"Perhaps you would like to answer our questions now? Or should we just continue the way we are heading?" he asked.

Harry was barely conscious, the throbbing pain in his shoulder was getting worse and worse and there was nothing that Harry could do to alleviate it. He spat in the direction of Damrod, he couldn't tell them the plans of the Dark Lord because he didn't know them, however they wouldn't believe him so there was little point wasting his breath.

"I don't know!" Harry said around his gag, trying one more time.

Damrod picked up the other arrow, inspecting the tip to make sure that it was properly heated.

"Sorry!" he said, clearly not, "not believing that!"

He reapplied the arrow to Harry's other shoulder and the younger man's screams filled the cave.

(A little later)

Harry was barely able to listen to the voices that were discussing him in hushed tones not a couple of metres away such was the state that he was in. His body was covered in burns and bruises from where Damrod had resorted back to his feet. The worst punishment when Harry's torturer had soaked a piece of cloth in a solution that acted as if it were some sort of acid, burning anything skin it came into contact with, which it quickly did to Harry's mouth when the cloth became his new gag. Faramir had come in and stopped the torture a couple of minutes ago and hauled Damrod over to a corner where they were continuing to talk.

From what Harry was able to pick up the rangers were needed somewhere else, a place that he remembered from his days among the orcish prisoners as being called Osgiliath which had been a major town in the area and even now was the battle ground between Mordor and Gondor. Harry had no idea where this place was but he understood from what he was hearing that it was some distance and they were currently discussing what to do with him.

"….we won't get much out of him….stubborn brute…." Harry could hear Damrod say. "better to….dump him….back quickly."

That wasn't what Harry was hoping to hear, being killed and dumped somewhere in another world was not quite what he had in mind when imagining his death, he would have preferred a battle field with hundreds of dead foe around him and maidens weeping but who was he kidding he was going to die and that was that.

Fortunately for Harry Faramir did not seem to agree with Damrod's plan, saying that they should instead talk Harry with them and then send him to Faramir's father, however he might be. After a couple more minutes of debate Damrod came over and furiously ripped the acidic gag from Harry's mouth causing him to double over breathing in free, un-acidic air for the first time in what seemed like an age.

"I wouldn't get to comfortable, we will be leaving soon," Damrod said with a snarl before walking out of this section of the cavern, shutting the heavy oak door behind him.

"I'm sorry for necessity of this," Faramir said lingering near the door, "one of the first things a man loses in war are his morals. The ranger you killed was a good ranger, and a better man, he was also Damrod's brother."

With that he left, leaving Harry to his pain. The young wizard lay his head back against the hard stone of the cave walls and tried to get some sleep, yet the pain that still came from his arms and the rest of his body prevented even a wink of sleep. He couldn't help but wondered where they were heading now, Damrod said they would be leaving soon but how soon would that be and where would they heading? Would they be going to Osgiliath and would they take him with them or send him someplace else?

Answers were not long in the coming for after around an hour of sitting there and going in and out of consciousness Harry was brought back to reality as the door banged open and from behind it Harry could hear the scuff of many boots.

A line of green cloak rangers came and put something down on the ground, Harry peered through his weary eyes trying to see what it was. A new torture device? Or something they wanted him to see? He didn't know.

"Take him!" one of their leaders said, not one Harry recognised the voice of.

Immediately two men came and seized Harry's arms one each, and lifting him up frogmarched him over to the object, taking no notice as Harry groaned in pain as they reopened burns and sores that covered his near broken body.

"Lay him down on it!" the leader ordered again.

Harry struggled, they were going to torture him again and he wasn't going to let that happen. Two more men grabbed his feet and they were able to wrestle him down onto the sheet of material. It was then when Harry realised what it was, a stretcher. Of course they would need some way of transporting Harry because as it was he could barely walk ten metres let alone any serious distance. Leather thongs and straps were wrapped around his body as all his limbs were fastened securely onto the stretcher.

Six of the bigger rangers grabbed the wooden handles and easily lifted him up into the air, the feeling was a bit disconcerting and painful as every jolt sent pain rocketing through his body. Soon they were leaving the cave and the bright sun hurt Harry's eyes as it shone fiercely down upon the small group.

Lifting his head a little bit from the stretcher Harry could see the rest of the rangers as well as Damrod and Faramir waiting for them outside. Harry glared his worst at Damrod but the man seemed totally unaffected. Once Harry's stretcher and its bearers had arrived Faramir led the group down a series of small paths that led alongside the river. There were many moments where the path got so small that Harry thought that the stretcher would topple over the side and down into the system of streams and pools below.

Soon the stretcher began to tip forward as the group began to head down a small hill and Harry could see the river had gain in size since its smaller stages by the pools. There was also a small pier with a raft attached to it and it was to this pier that they seemed to be heading. From what Harry could see from a distance the boat was quite small, paddled by rowers and had a small hut in the middle of it. All in all it was not a very impressive thing.

Harry was soon bundled on board the raft where he was pulled from the stretcher, apparently there wasn't enough room to have him lying down on board, Damrod had said with a sadistic smile, and besides they didn't want him to get too comfortable. His staff was put down carefully at the edge of the raft, somewhere where it wouldn't fall into the water and soon the rest of the rangers joined Harry aboard the raft. Harry was propped up in one of the corners of the raft upon a small stool that one of the less grim and younger looking rangers was kind enough to provide. Harry gave the made a small smile but received nothing in return.

Damrod saw the whole thing and was sure to give the ranger responsible an earful as the unfortunate person was given a whole day's rowing duty for his good deed. Harry found that he could not help but hate the man. Already he was becoming someone who rivalled Bellatrix, Fudge and Umbridge. Yet in the back of his mind Harry knew that part of the reason he hated him was because he was angry at himself, he had taken the man's brother from him when they were only there to save him and the rest of the captives from the hands of the orcs.

Harry was shook from his thoughts as suddenly they began to pick up speed, drastically. He looked around and saw they had now joined a much bigger river, indeed a huge river several hundred metres across. The uptake of speed was due to the river being in some sort of spate, according to what Harry could overhear the helmsman saying to Faramir, apparently this would cut down their travelling time to less than a day.

A sudden jolt startled him out of his thoughts again because of the ripple of pain it caused. Harry wasn't the only person to have felt it as well as some of those who had been standing on the deck and were unaware had been sent to the floor as they were caught off-balance. Harry sadistically hoped that Damrod had been one of them but he was unlucky as he saw the man in question bellowing orders and hauling men to their feet.

Faramir had made his way over to the helmsman and was asking what had happened, what had they hit. Harry heard the helmsman's reply easily and that set him thinking. Apparently they were approaching a bit of water that was filled with large boulders that were normally easy to avoid because they were so large but at the moment they could not been seen as the river was in spate. The helmsmen said he couldn't be sure that they wouldn't hit another one.

Harry was thinking quickly, he was sitting down and was so in a better position to resist the initial shock that all the rangers who were standing around him. In addition at the moment they did hit something, even if the rangers didn't go down they would be off-balance and not expecting him to try and escape. His staff was within reaching distance, leaning up against the side of the raft and Harry reckoned he would be able to reach it should he need to.

Just at that moment the boat hit another rock, throwing everyone on board off-balance although only a couple went down this time. However that was all Harry needed though, his guards were off balance and this was his chance. He leapt from their grip, grabbed his staff in his still bound hands and threw himself over board.

The water currents quickly swept him away from the raft and the rangers with their commander. Harry started to paddle desperately towards one of the banks, the one furthest away from the boat, however the currents were too strong and Harry hit his head off a rock, knowing no more.

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**AN: There have not been too many big changes in this chapter, I just decided that I sort of had to make the whole torture scene a little more realistic, which I hope that I have achieved.**

**T Horn**


	3. Chapter 3 : Re-done

**AN: I apologise in advance for this chapter for in comparison to the last two it is going to appear slow and perhaps boring but it is a set up and information provider for the rest of the story and so is unfortunately necessary.**

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Chapter 3

Harry gradually regain his conscious and found himself face down in sand. His body ached from thousands of bruises scattered over his body and his burns felt like they had blistered over. Groaning he tried to get to his feet but let out a shriek of pain as his wounds reopened at his movement.

After pausing for a couple of minutes he pulled himself up into a sitting position and looked around him. He was on a beach, near a place where a huge river met the sea. It was the river he had been travelling on if he had to guess, in which case he was very fortunate that he had come to sure where he had and not gone any further.

"I would stay where you are if I were you," a voice came from beside him, "and try not to tire yourself out."

Harry turned round and saw a man come and sit down next to him. The man's dress was odd, robes much as a wizard in Harry's home world would wear but made of a lighter material and covered in strange markings. There was something in his face that Harry recognised, it took him a couple of minutes but he eventually realised what it was.

"You serve the Dark Lord," he said quietly, "you were one of my guards there, one of his wizards."

The man looked pleased at being remembered and bowed his head.

"It is so!" he said with a smile.

Harry studied the man, it was clear that he was of a different ethnicity to the other humans he had met in this Middle Earth, by that he meant those he had just been prisoners of and those who had been his guards on that trek during which they were ambushed and he was captured. For instead of having their light, pale skin he was dark in colour much like those of the Middle East from Harry's home world. He was oldish, late fifties if Harry were to guess but intelligence shone through his eyes. This was not a man Harry would be quick to underestimate.

"You're different from the other humans I've seen in this place," Harry relayed his observation.

"That is so!" the man said again, smiling a wide smile that showed perfectly white teeth, "for I come from the land of Harad, to the south of here!"

Harry looked confused, "if you come from Harad, why do you serve Sauron?"

"Because I must," the big man shrugged, "I am the shaman of my tribe and I was ordered by the tribe to go and serve the Eye and so I went. But now I return to my people!"

"Can I come with you?" Harry asked hesitantly, "for there is nowhere else in this place that I can go."

The man seemed to hesitate for a moment before bowing his head, "in the interest of the brotherhood to which we both belong I shall do this for you, though I expect tuition in return for I remember how you fought that day and you have power!"

Harry nodded, agreeing for he knew that he would be the one who would be learning the most out of this arrangement, not just in terms of magic but also about this land and its people. For if he was going to survive in this world he would need to know as much as possible.

Finally thinking that he had enough strength with which to get to his feet, Harry pulled himself up and dusted himself down of the sand that clung to his body uncomfortably, gritting his teeth against the spasms of pain that went through his body. He saw his fire staff laid out of the ground next to where he had been lying. He bent down to pick it up, flicking it around as he did so.

He had yet had time to examine it in detail, for this was the first time he had seen it properly since his escape from the ambush. It was made of a gnarled curled wood that was blackened as if it had been burnt and onto of it was a human skull with a red crystal buried in the middle of it.

Harry cast a quick drying to spell to remove all the water from his clothes but was surprised when the staff did nothing, after all a cleaning spell was one that he had mastered in second year.

"It won't work," said the shaman who had returned from where ever he had been. "Orc staffs can only control one of the elements, that there is a fire staff and a weak one at that, it will only allow you to cast a basic fireball nothing more."

Harry nodded, it seemed to make sense as all the orc shamans he had seen tended to stick to one of the elements, either fire or earth. The staff in question had been taken from a low ranking shaman and so would be limited to basics as that was all its user could cast.

"What you need is something else entirely," the human said grinning, "something like this!"

He took something out of his robes and showed it to Harry, who almost kissed him. It was Harry's wand, broken but still usable from the look of it.

"Murad gave it to me to look after and study, and as we have a deal I thought you might need it if you are going to teach me anything."

Harry laughed before thanking the other man.

"Please call me Esus."

Once Harry was ready to move Esus led him over to where a group of horses were standing eating the grass that grew around the edge of the beach.

Harry nervously pulled himself into the saddle of the horse that was brought forward for him, fortunately he seemed as if the people of Harad favoured smaller lighter horses to some of those that he had seen and so if and when he did fall off he wouldn't have to fall so far. Esus looked amused at Harry's nervousness.

"Your people not ride horses?" he laughed.

Harry shook his head, choosing not to verbally answer the question so that he could keep his concentration on the animal underneath him. Esus was helpful giving Harry a lot of tips and pieces of advice on how to make sure the horse did as he wanted it to, although at times sometimes he couldn't help but laugh out loud at his fellow wizard's lack of experience.

The two wizards would not be travelling alone for also travelling with them were a group of Haradrium from the same tribe as Esus, men who acted as his servants and bodyguards during his journeys. After a couple of minutes as Harry got used to the difficult process of learning to ride, he began to ask his companion questions about magic in this world.

"There are many different types of magic users in this world," Esus explained patiently, "I will stick with the human ones for my knowledge on the others is lacking. First of all there are shamans, like myself, we are the weakest of all magic users our power comes mostly through spirits that we conjure to use their power for ourselves. Then there are wizards who use staffs and wands as their foci, men like yourself and an order called the Istari who support Gondor!"

He spat. That was one thing that Harry learnt really early on, the people of Harad bore a special hatred for the men of Gondor which stemmed from centuries of warfare as well as periods of occupation.

Esus also told Harry much about the history of his own tribe, the Jaffa tribe. They had once ruled the city of Jaffar, on the northern edge of the peninsular upon which the city of Umbar was located. It had been one of the last cities that had come under the control of the Black Númenóreans when it had been burnt to the ground thirty years previously by Black Númenóreans from another local city, Akmunsa.

"There are three main groups of people that live in Harad," Esus had explained, "the Haradrium, the Corsairs and the Black Númenóreans. Corsairs are mainly refugees and criminals who have fled from other lands and now live along the coast from where they raid the shores of Gondor. My people are Haradrium we have few cities of our own now but mainly we live as nomadic tribes in the desert."

"That leaves the Black Númenóreans…," Harry prompted.

"Yes, the Black Númenóreans are related to the men of Gondor but fled here during a civil war. The city of Umbar is their strongpoint but they have slowly set themselves up as rulers of all the cities in Harad and their ruling council claims lordship over the whole of Harad."

Something in his tone alerted Harry, "I know they destroyed your city, but you really hate them don't you?"

Esus nodded, "perhaps not as much as Gondorians, but they treat anyone who isn't one of them with distain, believing us as little more than dogs to do their will."

"And now they rule your lands," Harry said.

Esus looked unhappy, "aye and there is nothing we can do about it as they are favourites with the Dark Lord and they can do powerful magic we can't. They also have vast armies at their disposal, so at the moment we are just going to have to live with it."

Harry thought to himself, taking a break from talking to Esus as the other man starting dispensing orders out among his followers as they prepared to pitch camp for the night. He could help the Jaffa regain their city and then use it as a base of operations as he found some way to get back home.

That is if he wanted to get back home, after all there was absolutely nothing left there for him to return to; his friends and his mentor had been forced to turn on him and as soon as he arrived he would face almost immediate arrest by the Ministry. Besides there was still the chance that somewhere Sirius was wandering around here, alive and lost, and Harry would need to set up a base from where he could start searching for his godfather.

By now Esus' servants had lit a small fire and were slowly roasting a rabbit on a spit above it whilst everyone sat around talking. Harry moved towards the fire and stood, warming himself against it for a couple of moments before taking a seat next to Esus.

"The perimeter is clear, shaman!" came the voice of Karlon, Esus' bodyguard.

He moved to take a seat across the fire from Harry, clapping several of the other men on the way calling out to them in their strange language which Harry was having so much difficultly trying to learn. As he was about to seat down Harry heard something and immediately called out.

"Stop don't sit!"

Karlon paused not quite sure whether or not to heed the stranger's words but Esus beckoned him to do as Harry said whilst looking at Harry interested. Harry got to his feet and walked over to where the bodyguard was about to sit and knelt down.

_Stupid prey,_ he heard something hiss, _does not notice me! I will fill it with my venom!_

_Silence! _Harry hissed back, causing those near him to gasp as they understood what was going on.

A jet black serpent slithered into the light cast by the fire causing the Haradrium to spring back from the deadly snake. Harry however did not move but mere stood stock still. The snake looked around, sticking its tongue out so as to taste the air around it.

_Where is the puny little worm that dares tell a black mamba to be silent, _it hissed looking around for the offending snake, _it shall pay with its life._

_It was I who spoke to you thus, noble serpent, _Harry hissed causing the snake to look at him in amazement, _it is a gift I was granted to speak in the tongue of those that slither on the ground._

The snake looked at Harry in awe and suspicion, _who dared grant the right for prey to speak the tongue._

_The basilisk, _Harry replied lying, _the King of Serpents. I met him in a far off land and he gave me this right._

_Should the King judge you worthy to speak our tongue, then who is the Black mamba to disagree, _the snake spoke, _hunt well, blessed of the King, for the snakes will aid you in the name of our King._

With that the snake disappeared off into the night leaving Harry surrounded by a group of very awed men. Many of them had fear on their faces but above all there was respect.

"You can talk to snakes?" Esus asked in a hushed whisper.

Harry nodded, sitting back in his own place and taking a mouthful of stew. The rest of the guards and servants were talking among themselves under their breaths, obviously about him from the way they were constantly glancing over their shoulders.

"What else can you do?" Esus asked keeping his voice low.

Harry shrugged, "cause things to float, turn something into something else, cause things to appear in mid-air and curse things."

"Like that green curse!" Esus said with a shudder.

Harry nodded and stood up causing all the servants to stop talking about him and look at him, wondering what he was about to do.

"Accio rabbit!" Harry enchanted, carefully waving his wand.

There was a moment's pause before a rabbit came zooming towards Harry. Quickly stunning it Harry chucked it down on the ground before retaking his seat.

"In my land," he said, "there are three curses that will earn you live in prison if not death. We call them the Unforgivable Curses because of the severity of using them."

Esus was watching keenly, realising that this was Harry making his exchange of teachings as he promised, whilst the servants crowded round wanting to see what this newcomer could actually do.

"The first is called the Imperius Curse," Harry said, "Imperio!"

This was Harry's first time casting this one of the Unforgivables but recently, since his torture at the hands of the men of Gondor, Harry had felt a new bubbling of hatred within himself which threatened to erupt at any point. Hatred he was now using to fuel his spell.

The rabbit twitched as Harry until the stunning spell before leaping it spot on the ground. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a back flip and landed hard on the ground, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Harry jerked his wand, and the rabbit rose onto its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.

"Total control," said Harry quietly as the only noise was the crackle of the fireplace. "I could make it do anything, anything I please; through itself in the fire, go willingly into the snake's den or drown itself."

Esus breathed out clearly shocked by what he saw, "tis a truly powerful spell, my friend, now I can truly see why the Witchking was so keen to recruit you."

"This is the weakest of the Unforgivable Curses," Harry said to his horrified audience, "The Imperius Curse can be fought but it takes real strength of character, so most people will never be able to do so!"

"What are the others?" one of the servants asked, "the other two curses!"

Harry quickly froze the rabbit to make sure it would not escape, before quickly swelling it in size.

"The Cruciatus Curse," Harry said. "The man who first showed me this one said that your target needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea,"

Harry raised his wand again, pointed it at the rabbit, and muttered, "Crucio!"

At once, the rabbit's legs bent in upon its body as if they had been broken before it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. After a couple of moments of placing the rabbit under the curse Harry raised his wand. The rabbit's legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch as of undergoing momentary spasms.

"Dear god," one of the servants murmured as he looked upon the twitching rabbit. "How powerful are you?"

Harry ignored the question slightly enjoying the looks of fear and horror that covered the faces of these veteran warriors.

"The last is the worst, it is known as the Avada Kedavra," Harry whispered, "or as it is better known as the Killing Curse."

"Avada Kedavra!" Harry roared, focusing all his hatred into this last spell.

There was the normal deadly flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air - instantaneously the rabbit rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the servants leapt backwards but Karlon went forward and picked up the rabbit, examining it.

"No marks!" he said slightly confused.

"Yes," Harry sat, "no marks, no cause of death which makes it the perfect weapon for a murderer or assassin as their victim dies without a trace."

"Can it be blocked?" Esus asked.

Harry shook his head, "none of those three curses can be blocked by any type of magical shield, you just got to get something apart from yourself it between the curse and you. Only one person has ever survived it."

"And who was he?" Esus asked, "a great sorcerer?"

"Me," Harry replied simply.

******The Traveller******

Several more days travel had them reaching their destination. The city was the first thing that Harry saw as they came down the road which was falling into ruin; raised on hill its ruined columns and towers overlooked a small sheltered bay against the backdrop of the beautiful azure sea. As they got closer and closer Harry began to pick out more and more details; like the style of the buildings which resembled those he had seen in pictures of eastern cities and the spires and domes of immense buildings.

"Magnificent, isn't it!" Esus said from his side.

"Yes," Harry replied, there was something awe-inspiring about the wall the light fell upon the ruined city.

"Maybe one day, we'll return," the shaman said wistfully.

"I'll lend my services for that day," Harry said seriously.

"A sorcerer of our own to counter theirs," Esus pulled up his horse and looked at Harry carefully. "And in return, what would you have us give you in return?"

Harry looked around and saw that their conversation was being listened in to, something he would rather not have given the situation.

"Ask me about it later," Harry said, "and I will give you my answer then!"

By now they entered a dip with high sandy walls which served to protect the camp from any rampant sand storms, or at least that was what Esus told him. High up along the cliffs were walkways which led into a series of caves, there must have been at least twenty of them along either side of the cliff. When Harry mentioned they would be good places to hide Esus just stared at him and said they were the tombs of their dead kings and to disturb them was heretical.

The camp was no much, it occupied the base of the valley filling it with around eighteen or twenty tents each hosting a couple of families. In the centre there was a square which was slowly filling as people noticed the new arrivals.

In the centre of the square was a well which had around ten children, some younger than the age of ten, clustered around it with an assortment of buckets and pails trying to fill them up with water. Unsuccessfully from what Harry could see as the buckets contained only trickles of dirty, filthy water that Harry would not drink if he was ever given the choice, unfortunately for these people it didn't look like they were given that choice.

Pushing his horse through the group of people who were looking at him suspiciously he made his way over to the group of children. When he reached them he reached out his hand to the youngest of them who looked as if were around eight or nine.

"Give me your bucket!" Harry said as nicely as he could.

The child didn't seem to understand him but the hand gesture made it plain. Still he didn't look like he wanted to hand it over for it must have been his family's share of the water. He looked around for support but an older child gestured for him to give it to this new stranger and so he did with great reluctance pushing the bucket up into Harry's hand.

"Thank you," he murmured.

If Harry was honest there wasn't much to be honest about, for the water in the bucket was the worst of the lot from the look of it, obviously the boy's family was one of the poorest or weakest. Swirling about so he collected as much of the mud and dirt that was clouding the water, Harry emptied it onto the ground causing the assembled people to gasp with horror and anger. The little boy looked like he was about to cry and one of the men, from the look it a leader of the tribe, stepped forward but was stopped with a glance from Esus who was looking at Harry curiously.

"Aquamenti!"

A stream of fresh pure water stemmed from his wand and within a matter of seconds the bucket was full of the clearest water these people would probably have ever seen. He passed it down to the little boy and motioned for another to be passed up to him. He looked at the boy whose bucket he had just filled and watched as the boy studied the water before dipping his finger into it and putting it into his mouth.

The resultant smile that light the boy's face would stay with Harry forever as the sheer delight crossed his expression. A clamour grew as the assembled people saw he feat Harry was capable of and soon he had buckets being pressed at him from all directions. He filled them all and then made his way over to the well. If he was going to leave here tomorrow he wanted to do one last great deed before he left.

"Aquamenti!"

This time instead of a gentle incantation this was a thunder of raw power and his magic answered as water poured from his wand as if it were from a cannon. The jet of water poured from his wand and crashed against the walls of the well, slowly filling it. Despite the force and volume of the water coming from the tip of his wand it took over a minute before Harry reckoned he had filled the well to a satisfactory level.

Stepping down from the place where he was standing Harry had to steady himself as the tiredness hit him. Shaking it off the young wizard made his way over to where Esus and the man he had stopped were standing along with a set of importantly dressed people.

Esus motioned towards the leader, "Harry this is Sharpur. At the moment he is leader of the council and Karlon's father."

Harry glanced back between the shaman's bodyguard and this Sharpur looking for any family resemblance and found a fair amount. Sharpur had the look of a fierce warrior who had slightly gone to fat as he aged, around fifty there was still something in his eyes which denoted power and his grip of Harry's arm was as strong as a vice.

"I have told him of my wish to take you as my apprentice and he has called a meeting of the council to discuss the matter," Esus continued, motioning to the group standing behind Sharpur.

Harry followed the group over to one of the holes in the cliff face, the only one that looked like it experienced regular use. Raising his eyebrows at the shaman, it was explained to Harry that so little was found of the last king that body needed no resting place and so it was used for council meetings so they could be certain they would not be overheard.

"You must wait outside," Esus said firmly, "for you should not be present as your fate is discussed."

Oh very grave and dramatic, Harry thought to himself as the council members filed through the cave entrance and into the meeting place beyond.

Once they were all gone Harry took a seat down outside the cave, looking around the marketplace as the central square seemed to act as, observing the goings on of the people who he might end up staying alongside, for a time at least.

There was an excitement in the air that Harry felt was a new feeling for many of the people living here, too often for them was something new something that would adversely affect them. Sure they didn't trust him yet, that much Harry could see from the still suspicious looks on their faces, but they did not fear him either, rather they seemed to accept him until such a time as they decided otherwise. That was of course the adults, the children on the other hand were grouping on the other side of marketplace, gathering in groups dependent upon age and gender but all of them looking at Harry. Some of them, the older ones, seemed to pick up some of their parents unease and were staying well back but the younger ones were slowly and slowly creeping closer and closer to him.

A young of girl of around six broke away from one of the groups and approached him shyly. She had the tanned skin that Harry was getting used to see around this part of the world and beautiful silky black hair. She was clutching a doll that looked like it had been passed down at least several generations, and Harry couldn't help but think of Ron and the rest of the Weasleys. God was he missing them and everything else normal in his life.

The little girl shyly held out the doll with outstretched hands and Harry couldn't help but smile which brought a fleeting grin to the girl's face as well. Gently taking the doll Harry set it down on the ground and took out his wand. A look of worry flashed past the girl's face to be replaced with the unswerving look of trust that only young children were ever capable of producing.

Waving his wand Harry caused an animation charm, causing the doll to get unsteadily to its feet and start walking along the ground, with the result that the girl started to shriek in surprise drawing attention to Harry's little routine. He had the doll up dancing like a ballerina, up and down, twirling all the wall along the ground, until with a final flourish he had leap into her owner's arms.

Much like the young boy, to a child who had known only hardship the look that crossed her face almost broke Harry's face and from that moment on he knew that he was going to find it hard to find a reason to leave. There was something he could do to help here and so he should stay, hero complex as Hermione described it in full flow.

"You are Gondor?" the girl said in broken Common, the language he knew as English.

"No, a traveller I am!" Harry said in even more broken Haradriam.

The girl giggled and gave Harry a fleeting hug before disappearing back into the group of her friends, talking excitedly and waving her doll around frantically.

"Nobly done, young wizard," came a voice from the cave entrance, causing Harry to turn.

Sharpur stood there, regarding the scene coolly. There was something about him that made Harry unease something that reminded him of Lucius Malfoy, a capable but ruthless politician who would sacrifice what was necessary for his goal.

"Your apprenticeship with Esus has been approved," he said before staring intently at Harry, "do not give us reason to regret this appointment, I can assure you will regret it yourself."

Something in his gaze made Harry shiver unconsciously.

* * *

**AN: Despite wondering about it I have decided to change none of the names of the major characters for continuity's sake. At the moment these edits are doing very little but there will be bigger changes later on.**

**As ever please review**

**T Horn**


	4. Chapter 4 : Re-done

**AN: Ok here is another chapter, one thing I forgot to mention would be that this will be a Political!Harry for a couple of chapters. Either way I hope you like it.**

* * *

Chapter 4

It had been almost two weeks since Harry's arrival among the Haradrium and he was beginning to feel that he was being accepted, if not one of them, at least not as an enemy. His injuries, those that hadn't been healed by Esus when he had first found Harry, had been patched up by the tribe's doctor, a wizarding old man who Harry would have sworn was blind and deaf. His duties as Esus' apprentice were by no means easy and he had yet to start learning any new magic from the shaman. As well as periodically refilling the well Harry was also engaged in a crash course in the language as well as learning how to properly ride a horse as opposed to sit upon one as he had on the journey to the camp.

Harry came into the shaman's hut from his daily ritual wash and sat down on the carpeted floor, waiting for the older man to appear from his private quarters. The shaman was one of the few inhabitants of the camp who was allowed to have a permanent structure as their home, even if it was little more than a sun-baked brick and mud hut. The inside was filled with assortments of random objects and trinkets that Esus had collected, something that couldn't help but remind him of Dumbledore.

His teacher entered from his private quarters of the hut and went over to where there was a table in the corner and started to collect a various assortment of different objects and putting them in his pouch. Harry guessed that meant that today they would be going out, probably for a ride to collect something Esus needed or see that something that he thought Harry ought to see. Turning towards the door Harry headed out to prepare his horse and his own equipment.

"Harry," came Esus' voice, "tell Karlon to get ready and make sure you are armed."

Now Harry had no idea what was going on, for normally a wand would have sufficed against any bandits they would come across and never before had they gone with Karlon and the rest of the shaman's bodyguards.

Nevertheless he nodded and ducked out of the entrance, blinking slightly as he came out into the bright sunshine. That was one thing that had taken some time to get used to, that and the unbearable heat.

Karlon was sitting, chatting with several of the other military men in a corner of the camp. The sight of him only served to increase Harry's interest and confusion as normally Karlon would be seen riding out with just a bow, or perhaps a spear but he was sitting there in heavy leather armour with an assortment of different weapons.

"Esus says to get ready," Harry said, "we leave within the hour!"

Karlon nodded seriously and that was another thing that was off, for the man was never normally so solemn being instead a man who liked a laugh. Whatever was going on was serious and if Harry was to hazard a guess extremely dangerous.

Half an hour later they were ready to ride, Harry had sword strapped to his saddle not that he knew how to use it as well as his wand, firmly cast in a splint attached in a holster on the inside of his arm. His horse, on old one of Esus' chosen for its patience, was standing ready in the square surrounded by the horses of the eight other men they were taking with them.

"Mount up!" went the call from Karlon and like the other men with him Harry pulled himself into his saddle.

Riding out of the camp was surprised when the group of riders took a turn to the left, there was only one thing down the road to the left. Harry nudged his horse onwards until he drew level with the shaman.

"We're going into the city," Harry observed, it was a statement not a question. "That's why everyone so on edge."

Esus nodded, "there are reasons we haven't entered Jaffa for ages. There was magic left behind by the Black Númenóreans, black magic. That and other difficulties…"

"Other difficulties?" Harry asked.

"Snakes," Esus answered succinctly, "the last king was obsessed with them, had a whole menagerie of them but most of them escaped during the sack and we couldn't control them. You however, with your gift, should be able to do so?"

Harry was slightly sceptical, "you didn't go into the city for fear of a couple of little snakes?"

"Little?" Karlon snorted from the other side of Esus, "they are hardly little. The king had a particular fascination with exotic snakes, hence the thirty foot long things that now run amok through the ruins of the city."

"Thirty feet?" Harry racked his brain for a non-magical snake that was that length.

"Never seen a snake that big have you, sorcerer?" Karlon smirked.

"I have seen one sixty foot!" Harry replied hotly, "which has the ability to kill by looking into its eyes and the most potent venom in the world."

Karlon looked at Harry as if trying to work out if he were lying, "well these ones can't kill with their sight but I think you will find their venom is potent enough."

With that he rode forwards to take the lead of the small group of riders as they approached the outskirts of the city. Close up it was not quite as magnificent as it had seemed from a distance as the holes in the walls and the scorch marks reminded viewers of the fate the city had suffered. As the rode through the gates Esus leaned close to Harry so not to be overheard.

"A sixty foot snake?" he asked slightly disbelieving.

Harry nodded, "a basilisk, the king of snakes. They can live for thousands of years and can grow even bigger."

Karlon noticed the two of them conferring and hissed at them to keep their voices down. Karlon and Esus had explained a little bit of the plan as they were approaching; the idea was to get to the main square as quickly as possible and then from then on work out what to do next. They were under time constraints as well for no sensible man would be in the city after nightfall should he have the choice. After a bit they were forced down from their horses as the animals took offence to something they could smell, if Harry were to guess it was either the scent of the snakes that inhabited the city or the overlying feeling of dark magic that Harry himself was having trouble trying to shake off.

Eventually they reached the plaza where it had been arranged they would make their temporary camp for the day. As Harry looked around he could see that it had clearly once been something impressive; one whole side was dedicated to the entry to the palace, which was surrounded by high stone walls and had an entrance through what was once a wrought iron gate, whilst all the other sides were dedicated to important looking buildings, temples, courts and the like if Harry were to guess. He could imagine the scene now before the destruction of people walking around the market, perusing the various stalls whilst children raced each other round. It was not far different for many of the films he had seen at the Dursleys.

Karlon and his men were busy dragging the remainders of several of those stalls and various other pieces of wood to form a defensive ring about the central fountain which had once clearly had a huge statue in the middle but which had been torn down. Going over to the fountain Harry saw that decades of muck had built up on the bottom whilst all the water had dried up with none being pumped in to replace what was lost.

Well, Harry thought to himself, if we're going to rebuilt this place we might as well start.

Slipping his wand out Harry cast a quick vanishing charm on the muck causing all of it vanished apart from a brown log near the centre. Frowning Harry raised his wand to repeat the spell when the log moved. So quick that Harry was barely able to dodge it, the thing struck at him like a snake.

Whilst he avoided it he lost his balance and fell to the ground with a solid thump which knocked the wind out of him in an instant. The snake like thing rose up and opened its ghastly mouth to strike at him again.

"_STOP!" _Harry hissed furiously. _"Stop!"_

The snake showed no seen of having heard him and struck down at Harry hard. Just seemingly at last minute a spear appeared out of nowhere and pierced through the serpent's open mouth and emerged from the far side of its head. Harry desperately scrabbled to his head, expecting to see the snake topple over from the spear through its brain but it wasn't rather it seemed to be shaking its head desperately to dislodge the spear. How did it survive that?

A sudden breath of fire burst from behind Harry, incinerating the serpent and the spear with it. Harry turned round and saw Esus standing there, panting slightly from the power of the spell.

"How? What?" Harry asked weakly, how did it not die the first time.

"Dark magic," Esus spat, "the Akmunsans left a spell on this place where everything that dies here gets resurrected as a corpse of its former self. Thus any intruders become part of the defence system!"

Harry tried desperately to remember the serpent and he vaguely recalled the odd colour of the snake's skin, motley brown as if it were in the process of decomposing. Harry shuddered, so there would be hundreds of snakes, rats and other animals yet alone humans defending the ruins as zombie/inferi hybrids.

"It is very disconcerting," Karlon agreed, coming up to them, "to find one's friends turning on their comrades moments after being run through by bitten by a snake or half torn apart by dead corpses. Father said it was one of the worst experiences he ever had, the last time we came into the city."

"Thanks for the spear," Harry said gratefully, for without it he would now be an inferi himself.

Karlon waved it off and began to start delegating jobs to various members of his eight man team, such jobs as guard duty and removing as much rubbish as possible from the square. Meanwhile Harry and Esus took a seat on the edge of the fountain, sitting there for a couple of moments in silence.

"Why are you here?" Harry asked suddenly, asking something that had been bothering him but he had refrained from asking.

Esus was puzzled, "what do you mean here?"

"I mean here in Harad?" Harry clarified, "why aren't you with Murad and the rest of the sorcerers in Mordor?"

Esus sighed, "it is a good question and I suppose the answer is I deserted. The alliance between the Haradrium and the Dark Lord has always been one of mutual enemies, mainly Gondor. We unlike the Easterlings of Rhun or the Black Númenóreans do not worship him or his master, Morgoth. At the time I felt I would be better serving my people by being with them and so used the ambush upon us as a chance to desert."

"Won't they find you?" Harry asked, "Would they punish you?"

"I'm sure they would!" Esus smiled wearily, "but as a minor member of the sorcerers they wouldn't come looking for me, they'll probably think I am either dead or captured and that will be the end of it."

"Isn't the Dark Lord just using you?" Harry questioned, "using you against Gondor?"

Esus nodded, "of course he is, the thing is that the Haradrium are willing to get used in return for revenge on Gondor. After all life under the Dark Lord is unlikely to be much worse than under the Black Númenóreans."

"What about living under neither?" Harry asked, dropping his voice.

The shaman smiled, "what do you thing we are here for, a little trip? We plan to rebuilt the city and live behind its walls again, thereby defying the Númenóreans and so by extension the Dark Lord though of course that would only last until he takes direct notice of us when of course we would be forced to capitulate."

"Won't they just destroy it again like they did last time?" Harry asked slightly worried. "The Black Númenóreans?"

"No," Esus grinned, "for a number of reasons; firstly this time we are united, second most of their men and magic users are away in Mordor and thirdly last time we didn't have an extremely powerful magic user on our side to counteract them. With you on our side we can help set up an independent city, under our own rule for the moment at least."

Harry thought about, he supposed he wouldn't mind being here for some time as there were people who needed him and there was still much he could learn off Esus. Besides here he would have a position of responsibility, one he had never enjoyed anywhere else and so he could make something of himself in the way he wanted instead of the way other people wanted to mould him. In addition finding Sirius would be next to impossible, this world he imagined would be as large as his home one, making going out and looking for him and very silly idea. A better idea would be to have Sirius coming looking for him and setting himself up as an important magic user would be a way of doing it, furthermore it meant that Sirius would know exactly where to go.

"So, what am I?" Harry asked bitterly, "town wizard or something?"

Esus shook his head, and motioned for Harry to follow him. Getting up the young wizard followed the shaman over the barricade and towards one of the sides of the plaza where there stood three impressive looking buildings, which looked similar in design but differed in their choice of decoration.

"These are the three temples of Sol, God of Fire and Lord of the Desert," Esus explained before gesturing at each one in turn, "the temple of the Scorpion, the Jackal and the Serpent. Each one of the sects that worshiped him."

"He your god then?" Harry asked, not knowing why Esus was showing him this.

"Yes, along with Selena, Lady of the Moon and Goddess of Water, and Tel'Danith, God of Night and Death," he said turning round and pointing at the two buildings on the other side, one shaped like a crescent moon and the other which looked like one of those Aztec pyramids. "But each town is dedicated to one of the three and Jaffa is one of Sol's towns."

Harry was still confused, "so what does this have to do with me?"

"You can talk to snakes, Harry!" Esus said, "to the people you are an avatar of Sol in his serpent form. There was some debate amongst the council as to whether you ought to be a priest of the Goddess of Water instead but as you are a male, Sol was chosen."

"Me, a priest!" the ideas seemed ludicrous to Harry, like something Luna might come up with.

"No, not a priest," Esus said quietly, "an avatar, in religious terms you would hold the same rank as the High Priest of Sol Draconis, but as there isn't one currently it means you would be in charge of the Order."

Harry was spluttering, "but I know nothing about any of these, about your gods…. I'm not even religious!"

Esus smiled, "yes we know that's why you are going to appoint me as your advisor and I will take care of everything. I'm sorry about the avatar thing but we needed a legal way to force you onto the council."

Now Harry was utterly confused, "I'm on the council now?"

"Well not quite," Esus admittedly, "in the old days Jaffa was run by a king, but now we have decided to rule through the two councils that used to advise him. The council that currently runs the tribe is the Council of Nobles, we are going to resurrect the Council of Wisemen which both you and I will have a seat on."

"Why, why do I have to?" Harry demanded, furious about having another accolade awarded to him without consultation, "why couldn't Sharpur just have been made king and be done with it?"

At this point Esus looked around, looking for any sign of anyone listening in on them, Sharpur's son Karlon in particular. Once he was sure that nobody was listening and he had caught sight of Karlon standing on the other side of the square he turned back to Harry.

"Because the man's a tyrant," he said desperately, "I know you haven't been here long Harry but I know you've seen it, it was part the reason I left to join the Dark Lord. Besides there was some history behind it that would make it difficult for people to accept that family as the new kings."

"What history?" Harry asked.

Esus looked around again, "we're not supposed to speak of it, Sharpur tries to suppress it when he can. But before the invasion of Akhumsans there was a rebellion by a family against the king, most of the nobles supported the king but some did not, Sharpur's was one of those. They were losing and so they asked the Akhumsans to intervene and they did, destroying the king's armies and those who supported them before turning on the rebels. Many see it as their fault why Jaffa was destroyed and it would tear the tribe apart if Sharpur were to claim kingship."

"Why's he allowed so much power then?" Harry asked curiously.

Esus sighed, "because his father was clever and cut deals, as well as the fact that most of those who would have opposed him were either dead or had lost all their supporters and so were weak."

Harry nodded and headed back to the fountain, leaving the older shaman standing there in front of the ruins of the old temples. Taking his seat back on the fountain side Harry immersed himself in thought, sure they were using him and that hurt but the similarities that Harry could see between Sharpur and Lucius Malfoy was enough for Harry to half believe what they said. Furthermore taking a prominent place would only fit in with his goals of retrieving Sirius.

The downsides were hardly negligible though as a higher profile would bring him to the attention of those it would be best to avoid attracting the interest of, there were plenty of chances to make a whole new load of enemies and now a load of people were putting their trust in him and it was his responsibility to ensure they were kept safe.

"Well," came Esus' voice, "will you do it?"

The sound brought Harry out of his thoughts and he saw that he had spent a lot of time just sitting there for the sun was beginning to set and they would need to be leaving soon. He looked up at the carefully masked face of the shaman but could see the glimmer of hope that resided in his eyes.

He nodded, "I will but I have some conditions; you help with the politicking and you also teach me some of your magic. In addition should someone called Sirius Black coming looking for me and I'm not here, he'll be well looked after until I return. Is that acceptable?"

Esus thought for a moment before nodding and holding out his forearm which Harry grasped firmly in the way of this world.

"So it is decided!"

*******The Traveller******

For the rest of the fortnight there was almost a constant flow of traffic going to and fro from the camp up the hill to the city. The palace was the first place that was tackled for that was where Esus was sure that the Black Númenóreans would have hidden the binding stone on their enchantments on the city.

It was hard work, the worst point had been when they had uncovered a nest of those snakes which Harry had been told about and they found that the tales were not untrue when they had reported some of these snakes being up to and above thirty feet. There was one that Harry swore was around fifty feet. For the most part the snakes were killed and their bodies burnt but some were kept on Sharpur's orders, to be housed in Harry's temple which had made him bite his tongue to prevent himself retorting that it was his decision what went in.

Eventually they found what they were looking for, buried deep in the cellars and passageways beneath the castle. It was a small room but it had been filled to the brim with dead bodies, many of them humans the remains of those who were unable to escape the city before it was sacked. Many of the Haradrium had been killed before the bodies were burnt and the binding stone was recovered from the pedestal upon which it had been kept. Numerous attempts with conventional methods to destroy it failed but it was finally broken when Harry resorted to the green beam of the Killing Curse.

From then on it had been the easier work of hunting through the city to remove the remains of thousands of different animals which through the curse had been unable to decompose properly and Harry backed Esus in telling Sharpur that nobody ought to be allowed to live in the city until the remains had been removed for fear of people falling sick.

So the horrible job of going through the city sewers and piping, vanishing the dead bodies and destroying snake's nests had been relegated to Harry, because Esus said he was getting too old for this bending over and climbing through narrow pipes routine, not that Harry or anyone else believed him for they saw the supposedly old man move pretty nippy when encountering a nest of snakes or coming face to face with another of those accursed defensive mechanisms.

The ordinary people back at camp had little idea what was going on; the sick were moved to a specially set separate camp a small distance away whilst the families of the dead were told that they had died in skirmishes against bandits who were encroaching from the desert.

Needless to say, not always was this believed and occasionally rumours started spreading about what was actually happening. Some said that Sharpur and his men had discovered ancient tombs filled with traps which contained huge amounts of treasure whilst others said, and these were particularly irritating to Harry, that the two magic users were sacrificing the dead in black magic ceremonies. Whilst none of these were close to the truth that didn't stop an aura of suspicion and distrust between those who were in the know and those who had little idea what was going on.

Around two weeks after the first trip into the city around sundown a message spread through the camp that the council wanted to make an announcement. Immediately this caused a reigniting of the rumours and soon all the members of the tribe were there. This had been the first time that Harry had seen all the members of the tribe together in one place.

There were not as many as he thought there had been, barely a hundred and fifty if he was honest, certainly not enough to properly run a city and he could see this would be a cause for problems and long debates during these lengthy council meetings he was obviously going to end up spending a lot of time attending.

He stood with his back against the wall near the entrance to the council's cave, not far from where he had been standing when he had enchanted that little girl's doll. Speaking of which he caught sight of her briefly in the crowd causing her to give him a shy sweet little wave which he returned.

After a short wait, just as it was beginning to fall dark the council left their chambers in the cave and came out onto a small platform that was there for such occasions. Esus, rather than stand with the rest of them, came over to where Harry was standing and stood next to him. The eight members of the most prominent tribe families took the centre of the stage and waited until everyone fell silent before Sharpur stepped forward.

"As you no doubt have been aware there has been some odd comings and goings during the last couple of weeks," he said raising his hand to step the mass of whisperings his words had provoked, "and as I am sure some of you are aware, there are those who sacrificed their lives for the task they were performing."

Here he stood silent for a couple of moments in what was clearly a dramatic pause, he didn't care much that the people had died, only that they managed to do their jobs before they did so. Nevertheless Sharpur bowed his head as if he were feeling genuine remorse before he continued on with his speech.

"They have done their duty in ways we can only begin to imagine," he continued, "for they have, with the help of me and my men, helped us rebuild Jaffa and wipe its infestations from its hallowed halls! Soon, my friends, we will be within its walls and we shall grow in peace and prosperity, thank you."

If there were whisperings earlier now there were full blown conversations and arguments, for some had been brought up on the tales of the horrors that were contained within the city and were loath to allow themselves to be released from their grip.

Sharpur was followed one after another by the other heads of the eight families who praised all the work Sharpur and his men had put in with the project. Karlon also got a mention, with numerous hints that he would make a good successor for his father as leader of the tribe once his father passed on. However throughout the whole thing there was only passing notice made to Esus if at all, whilst absolutely none was made to Harry. Finally the second to last of the family heads stood up and walked to the front.

"As has already been said by my colleagues there are a variety of people who deserve our thanks for their role in the returning of our city to her glorious state," he said in a quiet voice that seemed to carry through the crowd, "however they have all forgotten, in their haste I am sure, one person without whom this would all be impossible. Therefore it is my duty and honour to thank Harry Potter for what he has done and moreover confirm the position granted to him as an Avatar of Sol."

"He's one of ours!" Esus whispered in Harry's ear as the noble in question finished his speech with a bow both towards Sharpur and the pair of them.

Harry nodded merely perceivably back, he didn't need to look at Sharpur to guess what his reaction was. His plan had been to ensure that he himself was seen as the deliverer of Jaffa but now it had been portrayed as a foreigner's work and had the foreigner's semi-divine title granted and proclaimed in public introduced a rival. Sharpur must have known that members of the council, such as Esus, would plan on building up Harry's status so Sharpur would focus most of his effort on him which allow them to undermine him. So that left Harry in the position of being forced to act as Sharpur's rival.

And from what Harry knew of people like Sharpur and Lucius Malfoy was that they did not like rivals.

"It is my firm belief that rewards should be handed out," the noble continued, "and so with the agreement of the council I would I hereby grant Harry Potter the name of the Serpent Lord!"

Oh fuck was all Harry could think, Sharpur and he would not be getting on very well in future.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: This story is set three years before the events of the Fellowship of the Ring, which occurred in 3018. Hope that answers some of the questions I have received. To confirm also this will NOT BE SLASH, not for Harry at least.**

* * *

Chapter 4

A fireball engulfed a target and moments later the second collided violently with the stone wall behind the second. Harry swore and adjusted his grip of his fire staff to do the drills again. Wielding a staff instead of a wand was so much harder because of its size and weight which made the object very cumbersome.

He had decided it was time he got used to using one because he was having some problems with his wand; the straps on it that kept the broken pieces of wand in place, although they were preventing it from falling to pieces, were also limiting its use. With spells that required easy movements such as a point or a slashing movement it was still functioning well if admittedly not perfectly, however it was the spells that required more complex wand movements that Harry was having problems. Hence the need to learn how to use a staff as that was, from what Esus had told him, the most common way of using magic in this world.

He was currently in the back yard behind the temple. It was much larger than he had imagined, as coming out from the backdoor of the temple of Sol Draconis he found himself in a huge courtyard surrounded by high walls to prevent other people from overlooking from the other temples' courtyards. In addition on the other side of the courtyard there was a building that previously had been the dwellings of the chief priest but which Harry had decided to make as his own. Sharpur had offered Harry a wing of the palace which he and most of the other nobles and council members, including Esus, had taken position up in but Harry had declined, he would rather not have Sharpur monitoring his activities and breathing down his neck all the time.

Reaching for a towel that lay on the bench next to him, Harry quickly mopped off the worst of the sweat that his exercise and the roasting summer sun had caused. Quickly throwing on the rest of his clothes Harry made his way into the relative shade of the temple. It was a big day today, it had been a week since the announcement in the camp and today was the day when the tribe would be moving into the city. Many people such as Harry and Sharpur had already moved most of their stuff into the city and were already living here as the 'advance guard' as Sharpur liked to call it but mostly it was so each council member and his supporters could take the best houses.

Once he had reached the temple Harry began his usual morning tour of the place, checking that everything was in order and trying to familiarise himself with the building and its mysteries. As Harry stepped into the corridor that lead from the backdoor to the main bit of the temple he was met with a series of angry hisses. It was here where the remaining imprisoned super-sized snakes were currently being held, around twenty of them in total and Harry had placed them here to ensure that nobody but him would be able to get into the courtyard and his quarters beyond.

The snakes were unsurprisingly displeased with him. At first they had seen him as an object of great curiosity, the fact that one of their prey was able to speak their tongue amused them, however when Harry refused to release them and kept them imprisoned in here they grew angry. Of course they were too afraid to try anything, one of them that had had endured minutes of torture under the cruciatus curse before his head was severed from his body and glued to the wall to remind the others what would happen if they tried to kill or attack Harry.

Harry had removed the floor of the corridor and built a pit beneath it before placing a small walkway that went from one door to the other. The walkway was still within striking distance of the snakes but it gave Harry some warning if they did try and attack him, as well as providing an extra obstacle for anyone trying to get through. Harry did plan to enchant the walkway to disappear whenever someone who wasn't him or didn't have a code walked on it, but unfortunately he currently did not know of any such enchantments, such things weren't studied at Hogwarts until the last year at least.

The main chamber of the temple was large, probably around half the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts but still sizeable, it looked much like the churches Harry had been in with the Dursleys as they went through a point of trying to 'cleanse' him through religion. The altar was at the end nearest to the back door but directly opposite the main door. Huge pillars went down either side which ornate serpents carved into them whilst the arched ceiling reached at least thirty.

Opening the main doors Harry came out on the columned veranda and took a seat at his usual spot with his back against one of the pillars overlooking the main square. It was mid-morning now and the bulk of the tribe were not expected the arrive until the early evening. That was not to say there was nothing for Harry to be doing at the moment, indeed he was expecting for Esus to call a meeting of the Council of the Wise for the Council of the Nobles were already meeting in the palace to discuss a matter that had been brought up late last evening.

Riders had been seen observing the movements around the camp and the city, and for a rare moment both Esus and Sharpur were in agreement as they both said that they clearly came from Akmunsa. It wasn't surprising really that they had cottoned on to what was going on, Harry had been expecting it much sooner but either way it had thrown Sharpur into a frenzy as he used the opportunity this offered to ask the council to draft more men into the tribe's military which was conveniently under the command of his son.

Harry really hated the politics he was having to play at the moment, on one side was Sharpur and the majority of the nobles on the other Esus and his supporters, leaving Harry stuck between the two of them. He favoured Esus of course, just because of the help the older man had given him and because of the way Sharpur reminded him of Lucius Malfoy.

He knew they were using him of course, using him as bait and as a distraction for Sharpur whilst they organised some sort of resistance against him. That didn't mean that Esus genuinely didn't like Harry, rather he saw him as a political pawn and player as well as his friend. Esus was being supported by two of the members of the Council of Nobles, including the one who had spoken out for Harry. Sharpur on the other hand had six out of the eight nobles backing him with heavy support also coming from the tribe's military.

As Harry sat down he began to read a scroll, one of the few that he had found in the language he knew as English but was here in fact known as Common. From what Harry had been able to make out after he found it in the ruins of the city library was that it had been left here in the old days of Gondorian control before the Black Númenóreans and Haradrium revolts against their rule. The scroll itself was a history, describing the events leading up to a war known as the Last Alliance at the end of a period known as the Second Age. Harry, having asked Esus, found that it was currently the 3015th year of the Third Age not that that meant anything to Harry.

It described the fall of the Dark Lord Sauron, falling at the hand of the Gondorian Isildur. The tale of how Sauron's legions battled with the brave and noble men and elves of the Last Alliance (the writing was rather biased, from what Harry had found the men of Gondor could not really be described as noble), interested him. He guessed from the writings that the elves of the tale were not the elves that Harry knew, same little harmless creatures who did the cooking and cleaning but rather, from what Harry could make out, some sort of super human and immortal warriors who were almost unmatched through Middle Earth for their skill and their magic. Harry idly wondered if there were any left and whether he would be able to persuade them to teach him some of their magic or not.

"Milord!"

The voice startled Harry, not that he showed it, and caused him to look up from the parchment to see a young boy, around fourteen, fidgeting in front of him.

"I was asked by Shaman Esus, to ask you to come up to the palace for a meeting of the council. Sir!" he added hastily.

Harry smiled at the boy who relaxed slightly. He wondered if he was really that frightening to him, after all the young wizard was only a couple of years older than the boy who stood in front of him, was magic all that separated the two of them and caused one to shiver and fear the presence of the other.

"What's your name?" Harry asked kindly.

The boy bowed low, "Shilver, milord!"

Folding the scroll back up Harry slipped it into his sleeve and followed the boy down the stairs and through the impressive gates of the palace, past its fountains and the remains of the gardens into the huge entrance hall. Shilver gestured to an entrance that left off main hall and Harry, thanking him, walked through the door.

Inside he found Esus and a couple of others that made up the elderly of the tribe. Most of them qualified for the post as member of the Council of the Wise because of the age they had reached rather than any position of priesthood or sorcerer that they had ever held. Indeed the only one who was there because of his position apart from Esus and Harry was the tribe's witch doctor, the elderly man who had treated Harry's wounds. He wasn't a proper wizard, having no magic of his own, but had a brilliant knowledge of what Hogwarts students would have known as Herbology and Potions.

Esus, seeming taking up the position of the unelected head of the council, stood up from his seat around the table and started to speak.

"As I am sure all of you are aware," he began, "supposed Akmunsan scouts were found watching the city last night, it has now been confirmed that these men were indeed from Akmunsa and the purpose of our meeting will be to decide the course that must be taken."

At this one of the tribe elders leaned forward in his chair, his fingertips meeting in front of his face. Harry recognised him, he was one of the men who Esus had told him to watch out for because just as Esus had his spies and supporters on the Council of Nobles, so did Sharpur have them on the Council of the Wise. This was one of them, the grandfather of one of the present members of the council who was supporting Sharpur.

"I know through my son that this was the matter that the Council of Nobles was planning to discuss earlier this morning," he said, "might we know what they advise?"

His words were meet by nods from around the room, including Harry's though for a very different reason. The elder wanted to know what he was supposed to be supporting, Harry wanted to know his enemies' mind. Esus however looked displeased.

"The Council of Nobles," Esus said with distaste, "moved to increase the men in the city's militia, placing it under the command of Sharpur's son, Karlon."

The elder stood, "perhaps we should vote on this motion first, I propose it agreeing with such an increase as well as the appointment of command."

Harry stood and there was a wave of mutterings breaking out among the Sharpur supporters in their corner.

"I second the proposal!" Harry said in a clear voice before sitting down.

Again fervent mutterings broke out and Esus sighed, shaking his head at Harry this was clearly not how he wanted this to go. Harry didn't care though, Esus was his friend and mentor but at the moment they were not friends they were politicians and occasional politicians had to make decision based upon the betterment of the people, not upon what their friend wished.

It was a sensible proposal which was why Harry supported, the town militia was not the tribe's military which meant that as soon as the threat was dealt with they would be disbanded and could never be used for offensive measures. In addition Karlon was a steady man and a good commander, someone Harry would trust so putting him in command seemed a good idea. Besides this measure would also prevent Sharpur from taking a purely opposed stance towards Harry, which as he was in effective commander of all the city's armed soldiers was not something he wanted.

"It looks like we are all in agreement," Esus said with a resigned tone, clearly not in agreement.

Harry could already feel a shift in the room and over the next couple of discussions it became clear, Esus and his supporters decided to oppose Harry over one particularly minor issue to do with the organisation of the temples, only for Sharpur's supporters to come in on Harry's side. So it went back and forward, Harry going with what his heart and his head saying and the two factions agreeing or disagreeing with him, depending on the politics of each decision.

One thing that Harry found odd was the way they listened to him; sure he was a wizard and to their minds an avatar of one of their gods but he was still fifteen. Different lifestyles made the difference Harry had to suppose, their children became adults much earlier than they would in Harry's home world as they were expected to put their lives on the line against bandits and other raiders, Harry had been horrified to learn that it was the norm for children to often be formally betrothed at the age of twelve or thirteen, to be married at the age of fifteen. It had been one of Esus' ideas to have Harry betrothed to one of the children of one of the major council members he was trying to coerce to his side but the wizard had shot that down pretty quickly.

Finally they came to the last matter and Esus shuffled around a couple of pieces of parchment that he had on the desk before picking one up in particular.

"To prevent an attack from the Akmunsans," he said, "the Council of the Nobles have asked us to choose one from among us to go to Akmunsa as the tribe's envoy!"

Now there was muttering for none of the council wished to go, not for fear of death or torture of any kind as there were strict rules of guest rights that would mean that any envoy would be unharmed. Rather it was that both factions had no wish to lose one of their own for a week or so as they journeyed to Akmunsa and back, a result that would lose them a vote on the Council whilst the chosen ambassador was away.

"How do the Council of Nobles suggest for the mission?" the elder whom Harry had helped out earlier.

Esus looked at Harry and immediately he knew who Sharpur and his cronies had suggested should go; Harry. It would be perfect from their point of view, for as far as they were aware Harry would vote how Esus told him rather than be independent. The question was whether or not Esus would fight the appointment, for Harry feared that he wouldn't.

"They suggest that the appointment should go to Harry Potter, the Serpent Lord," Esus said wearily "I myself see little to fault with this proposal, for Harry is true, honest and would be respected at the court in Akmunsa. I vote for Harry to take the role!"

"No!" said one of the other members leaping to his feet, he was one of the factionless members if Harry remembered correctly, "I oppose the motion, let us send someone else in his place, he is too necessary for the defence of the town here!"

That seemed to persuade a couple of the lesser members of the council but Harry could see that at the moment neither faction particularly wanted him in the city. Something he was surprisingly fine with as he had no wish to be caught between the two of them just yet.

One of Sharpur's men spoke with a silky voice, "I am sure that the Serpent Lord would be honoured with this appointment, however should he chose to….not go, we would understand and send someone a little more, how shall I say it, determined in his position."

Harry was caught now, though he wasn't sure if it was they who thought he was caught or whether he had got the result he wished for. He could not refuse to go, to do so would seem cowardly and that would certainly how it would be spread around the tribe.

"I can assure the council, nothing will please me more than serving the people of this tribe in any way I can," Harry said confidently, "I will make my preparations for the trip."

With that they packed up and just as Harry was about to leave he was caught at the door by Esus, who led him back inside the room and shut the door behind them.

"Harry," he sighed, "I understand your reason for opposing me, not wanting your fate tied to mine and I suppose it was a good proposal, if not for particular reasons. But please be careful."

Harry raised his eyebrows, mentally if not verbally asking who or what in particular he ought to be careful of.

"Sharpur, the Akmunsans, the Black Númenóreans," Esus said, "I might treat you occasionally like a political pawn but you are also my friend, I would not sacrifice you for politics. Those people would sacrifices their mothers and their first born sons if they thought it would buy them the slightest advantage."

He was right, Harry knew that, but as Esus said he didn't want his fate tied to that of someone playing a dangerous game.

"You are right," Harry said, "you are my friend, I trust you and I am already cautious about those that you mentioned."

With that he turned and walked out the door however just as he was about to leave he turned back and looked at Esus.

"Be careful yourself, I have seen men like you those sight of the trees for the wood, don't let the same happen to you."

********The Traveller*******

It was the morning which Harry was due to head out to Akmunsa. He had spent the last three days since that council meeting studying maps as well as reading up as much as he could about the culture of Jaffa's nearest neighbour. Not only that but he also read as much as he could find regarding the black magic the magicians of the Black Númenóreans were supposed to be able to cast.

The good news was that he was being escorted in style, both Esus and Sharpur agreed that a show of strength was necessary and both agreed that it would be the worth the men that went with him. Thirty armed men were to ride out with him, each armoured and with a spare mount. All were under orders to follow his strict instructions, though Harry suspected that some of them had been given special orders from Esus and Sharpur.

Sharpur had been mysterious over the last couple of days, he seemed to accept Harry's presence at the few social and political events the young wizard had attended and had even gone as far as to publically ask Harry's advice over an insignificant matter. These moves of his Harry knew were politically important for two reasons; first because it made clear that Sharpur was willing to come to terms with Harry and second that Harry was a valuable asset to whoever was in his good graces at the time. This was one of the few times in his life that Harry had felt important, before his life had always been dominated by other people; the Dursleys, Dumbledore and Hermione with her slightly bossy streak. And he liked it.

It was at that moment when Esus arrived, holding something that Harry could not quite make out what it was.

"It hit the councils last night that you have no official title with which to be presented," Esus explained, "the Serpent Lord is an informal title, or a formal nickname if you wish. Therefore you have been named Castellan of Jaffa, and you need this your badge of office."

He passed the rod up into Harry's hands. It was quite heavy, a stave of blackened wood around as long as Harry's arm and had decorated swirls of gold engrained within the wood. Harry carefully slipped it into one of his travel bags and gripped the arm Esus offered him.

"Good luck," the shaman said, "watch out for any tricks that they might have up their sleeves."

"Watch over things here," Harry said, "wouldn't want the place falling apart as soon as I leave."

Esus snorted, "you think too highly of yourself."

Harry grinned, "I know!"

With that Harry nudged his horse with his heels and headed out slowly of the marketplace, his guard forming up behind him. They paused for a moment as the main gate was opened before they made their left the city and headed down the road in the direction of Akmunsa.

* * *

**AN: This is a short chapter, I have the next one written but this is the logical stopping point in the flow of the story. So sorry bout that. **

**A question for when I move on which I don't plan for another ten or so chapters, does anyone have any preferences/ideas about where? I have some ideas but don't want to pick something people don't want or know about. This might turn into a poll at a later point but at the moment please either leave in a review or PM me. **

**T Horn**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: At 6,000 words I think this is my longest chapter yet, to make up for those pathetically short ones I have been giving you up until now. **

**One of the reviews raised a good point, for those that don't know a castellan is the keeper or guardian of a castle or a city, though is often a ceremonial role.**

* * *

Chapter 6

As Harry rode he thought about what he had learnt of the Black Númenóreans; it was little, but every little scrap of information that he had been able to gather could be of use and so had been carefully memorised.

Culturally they were very different from the Haradrium, normally ruling as an oligarchy with the city being ruled by a council of Númenóreans nobles and priests. This was in comparison to the normally Haradrium tradition of kings and tribal chieftains, although Jaffa was an exception for the lack of a suitable candidate for the role although Harry suspected it wouldn't be long before one of the factions won and their head was crowned as king of Jaffa, but until that day Jaffa nominally followed the Black Númenóreans system of government.

Their magic was also different from that of the Haradrium, for where the Haradrium were as a whole shamanic with their power coming from the spirits and the ground that their ancestors had inhabited for millennia, the magic of the Black Númenóreans came from Black Magic. Black Magic was totally different from the Dark magic of Harry's home world although the Unforgivable Curses probably fell into that category. Such magic came not from emotion as was the case with dark magic but rather from a source of darkness that was already in existence in the world, for example Sauron and Morgoth. These sources boosted the power of the magic making practitioners of Black Magic such as Black Númenóreans, the wraith sorcerers and Ringwraiths more powerful than most normally magic users. As a whole the Black Númenóreans specialised in ritual magic, that and Necromancy.

Akmunsa lay around half way between Jaffa and Umbar, the capital of Harad and the surrounding lands. As such they were strengthened in their rule by the power that the ruling lords of Umbar had over the land and the city. The city lay around 100 miles to the south east of Jaffa and it would take around three days travel on horseback, travelling as they were though a determined rider could probably do it in a little over a day riding flat out. The books that Harry had been able to recover had left very little for him to learn about the city itself, the only information that he had was that it was around one and a half times the size of old Jaffa, with roughly 150,000 people. Small enough but its links with Umbar were the main reason why it was strong enough to start trying to enforce its dominance over the region surrounding it.

Umbar was ruled by seven lords with two consuls elected from among them every year to take charge of the ruling of the city. The two consuls were chosen every New Year, one to take charge of the fleet earning the title of Captain of the Havens, whilst the other was granted command of the land armies under the command of Umbar, titled as the Lord of the Mustering. The seven lords came from the three major families in the city, each with their own links to different groups and different hereditary positions, such as Master of Horse, Master of the Gates and Master of Corsairs. Some of them had links to corsair elements of Umbar, others to the Haradrium whilst a couple had links to Mordor and the service of Sauron.

Harry pushed his horse forward, they were now approaching the old border between Jaffa and Akmunsa and although the Akmunsans claimed the whole of the territory of Jaffa here was where they would be most likely to come across their troops. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, there were none in sight and so the small group rode deeper and deeper in enemy territory.

After around two hours ride past the border, the leader of Harry's escort held up his hand calling for a halt. Harry looked around looking for what the man had seen that he hadn't and then after a couple of seconds he saw it too; a cloud of dust that was moving closer to them.

The captain gave a word and the Haradrium around Harry bunched closer and closer around him, creating a protective circle. Clearly there were going to be taking no chances when their own and his life was at risk.

Eventually Harry began to see the group of horsemen that were throwing up the dust cloud, there around fifty of them and so they were outnumbered, fortunately not outgunned should Harry mission fail at this point.

The riders circled the smaller group of horsemen with their spears and arrows notched on their bows, before one of them rode out of the mass and approached the group. The crest of the bloodied spear was clear on his chest, denoting his service as a man under the authority of the city of Akmunsa.

"You are far from your lands, Jaffirs!" the man, their leader, shouted above the noise that surrounded them, "what brings you so far from your new city?"

Harry's captain rode out from tight circle of men around Harry, Esus had explained that when they were challenged Harry should not speak both because as an envoy it was beneath him as well as that his slight accent could get him shot as being a suspected Gondorian spy.

"We are here to escort our envoy to your city for talks," Kharn, the captain said, "this is our right under our status as one of the fifty tribes."

The man snorted at Kharn's claim, clearly as far as he was concerned the Karna tribe had lost their right to be counted as one of the tribes. That said he didn't try and stop them but ordered his men to form up around them, he clearly recognised that was what the tribal law required of him and also he probably did not know what his masters back in Akmunsa would wish of him in the circumstances.

They rode harder than they had before, the Akmunsan captain pushing the pace so as to reach the city as quickly as possible. The two groups of Haradrium, of these lowly servants of Akmunsa were Haradrium rather than Númenóreans, spent almost the entire time exchanging hate filled glances and despite Harry searching for it, he could never one instance when one of the warriors' hands strayed too far from their weapons. The distrust and dislike that filled the air caused adrenaline to rush through Harry's body, ready for the fight that his mind and his body were telling him was about to kick off.

Well into the second day they came into sight of the city of Akmunsa. Unlike Jaffa it was not a port, with the nearest bit of coast being miles away, but apart from that it was very similar as it too was built on a hill and Harry could easily draw parallels between the two in terms of architecture as well as the materials used. It was clear that both cities had originally been built by the same people, probably those original Númenóreans before they split as one group turned to the worship of Sauron whilst the other created the kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor.

Was what also obvious was the difference between the two in terms of wealth, for despite the repairs Jaffa was still in a sorry state and the signs of past difficulties were still there to be seen whilst in contrast Akmunsa stood proud with caravans arriving bearing goods, gold and money to the city, even as they rode up to the huge impressive gates.

The men of Harry's escort were having problems trying to resist looking around in admiration and amazement, for despite their hatred of everything Akumnsan this was something that was for them totally unseen and so very different from their little town and even smaller camp which they grew up into.

As the large number of armed men rode through the gates, the crowd before them parted like the Red Sea and Harry and his guards found themselves being escorted through the city at an impressive rate. Much like the outside everything inside the city was so similar and yet so different from Jaffa, the houses were in good repair and there was a city feel around the city that Jaffa would take a long time to rebuilt for itself, should if ever manage to do so.

Eventually they came to the market place, a large plaza several times larger than the one found in Jaffa which was dominated on one side by the enormous castle which made up much of the city's defences along with the so called Road of Gold, the road which Esus had told him lead up to the houses and mini-palaces of the city's elite.

"Make way, make way for milord!" came a cry, "the Lord Jermiah approaches!"

The crowd around the market place separated as a litter made its way in front of them heading down one of the streets to the side. There was a man in the litter, totally unlike any that Harry had seen in Harad for he was fair skinned with only the slightest tan and with black hair that was shoulder length. The litter was surrounded by men, black in skin colour much like Esus had said come from the far south who were hugely built, wearing only loincloths that allowed their rippling muscles to show.

"Lord Jermiah," the captain of their guard shouted.

The man on the litter turned his head to see who was hailing him and when he saw who it was he beckoned him and motioned for the huge men that surrounded the litter to allow him through. From where Harry was sitting on top of his horse he could see the fervent way that the man reported to his superior. If he were to guess then Harry would say that this was one of those Black Númenóreans lords, one of the aristocracy that ruled the city.

As Harry watched one of the riders who had been following the litter rode up to the side and could be seen arguing fervently with the man in the litter. Narrowing his eyes Harry studied him in detail and saw similarities between the man on the litter. Probably his son, as going from the boy's sallow skin and youthful looks Harry would say that he was only a couple of years older than Harry himself was. After a couple more minutes the man waved off his relative whoever he was and gave an order to the guard, who immediately bowed his head and started to walk back towards Harry and his company.

Meanwhile the man on the litter gave an order and the bearers changed direction, turning the cumbersome thing around with great difficulty before approaching Harry. The relative on the horse seemed to sulk for a couple of moments before following though he glared at everyone and everything that had borne witness to the way he had been brushed off.

The litter stopped around ten metres from Harry and his riders when the bearers again turned around so that the man in the litter could see the delegation from Jaffa without needing to get out from his litter. A subtle insult, if ever Harry saw one. The sallow faced youth rode through the crowd, striking out with his crop at one unfortunate person who was caught beneath the hooves of his horse, and brought his horse to a halt next to the litter.

"Well," he said rudely, "where is your emissary, you Haradrium dogs?"

A couple of scowls broke out among the men but Harry ceased these with a look, there was no need to cause any problem when none was needed. Harry pressed his knees into his horse's side, bringing it forward a couple of steps so that he was now outside the group and gazed coolly at the youth. As he did so the atmosphere changed, not very perceivably but it did, much of the tension disappeared out of the air.

"A boy," the shallow faced boy laughed, "the dogs send a pup to deal with the lions, tell me boy why shouldn't my father have you thrown into a kennel with the rest of your kind?"

This last insult and the threat that accompanied it was enough for his men, as they then almost as one drew their weapons only to be met by a similar response for men all around them. In the background Harry could hear someone calling for the city watch and over on the walls of the castle and the city walls there were men who were drawing their bows. That was enough for Harry.

"Put them away," Harry said carefully and quietly.

Slowly the men returned their swords to their scabbards but their hands did not leave the hilts, ready to draw again at a moment's notice. The man raised an eyebrow seeing the control that Harry had over his men but chose not to comment, motioning for his own men to lower their weapons.

"I am Harry Potter, Castellan of Jaffa," Harry said quietly and patiently, "I come under tribal laws, and as far as I am aware those laws prevent those who come under the terms to be abused so please cease before I cause you to."

The youth spat, "why should the lion concern itself with the petty rules of dogs?"

"Because a pack of wolves can overcome a lion," Harry said cocking his head slightly, "particularly when there is a snake hidden among them."

The threat was there and was made. Harry doubted the lord's son knew enough of the situation to know about the rise of the Serpent Lord among the Karna Haradrium tribe, the fact he was willing to be so confrontational attested to that, however he was certain that this Lord Jermiah would.

"You refer of course," the man himself said, speaking for the first time, "to your sorcerer, the one you call the Serpent Lord."

"Yes," Harry said simply.

The youth seemed to be have some problems understanding what was going on and then it clicked, and his face grew a motley red colour, much like Vernon's or Dudley's did whenever they were particularly angry.

"You dare to threaten us," he said, trying to reassert control, "you son of a whore, I will have you hanged for this!"

"You shall do no such thing!" Lord Jermiah said firmly, "I apologise for my son, Castamir, he has much to learn about diplomacy and tact."

Harry allowed himself a small glare at the mounted man, "some intelligence wouldn't go amiss either!"

A wave from Jermiah prevented Castamir from retaliating although Harry he could see he was having problems controlling his temper. That would be something to tell the council, for such men fell easily to traps. Jermiah who got down from his litter and mounted a horse that was brought forward for him.

"You are the Serpent Lord, I presume?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Harry nodded.

"Allow me to escort you to my house," Jermiah said graciously, "I can accommodate you and your guards during your stay here, it is not far from our own small temple of Sol and you will of course be the guest of honour."

Harry inclined his head, murmuring the correct pleasantries but inside his mind was whirling. The invitation was clearly an attempt to get advantage over someone or something, whether that was Harry or whether it was Jermiah's fellow lords and rival politicians, he couldn't tell but imagined that he would soon find out. Harry and Jermiah rode ahead, with their respective men falling inside behind them. Castamir was riding a couple of metres behind Harry and the young wizard could feel the force of the older boy's glare.

"I would say from the tone of your skin, that you are either a man of the north or a Númenórean," Jermiah enquired, "might I ask which?"

Harry had already thought about this and had in advance prepared an answer, Esus had suggested that he suspected they would think him either a Gondorian or a Black Númenórean, something they could use to their advantage during the negotiations.

"I am not truly sure, my lord," Harry explained, "my parents died when I was young and I was brought up by one who knew of the Arts and recognised my powers. It was to the north of here, on the border between Gondor and Harad."

Jermiah smiled, "from accounts of your magic, I would say that it is more Black Númenórean that anything Gondor has ever seen. Do not hesitate to name yourself one of us, and it gladdens my heart to see one of our own in control of Jaffa."

Harry half turned to check how far back his men were and was glad to see them outside hearing range. When he turned back he saw that Jermiah was looking at him amused, he had clearly already made the check before he had spoken causing Harry to curse his lack of observance.

"Fear not," Jermiah chuckled, "it is after all your rightful place, do not allow others to contest it."

Smiling, Harry nodded his head as inside he tried to shake off this feeling of apprehension. Perhaps going on this mission, forced or unforced, was not as good an idea as it had first seemed.

"I do share my son's view of the Haradrium, as dogs," Jermiah said, surprising Harry who thought he would be a little more diplomatic and forward thinking than that, " but are not dogs man's favourite animal and his loyalist, helpful in almost every walk of life. To some a dog could be a term of compliment."

"You are wise, my lord," Harry said, slightly relieved, "I had feared that many of our kind where too blind to see it."

Jermiah smiled the smile of a predator, "have no such fear, young sorcerer. The way I see it is that a pack of dogs is so much more dangerous when led by a wolf, lion or even a snake!"

Now they had reached the bottom of a hill which was guarded by a set of gates that looked more ornamental than defensive, through which they were quickly bowed through. Beyond, enclosed within the wall, was a whole group of luxurious houses more akin to palaces than any house that Harry had ever seen. These were the houses of the Black Númenórean aristocracy whose word was law in this city and the deeper and deeper they went the more and more luxurious the houses got. At last they came to the end, a group of five palaces enclosed within their own walls to form compounds, the seats of the five most powerful families within the city.

At that moment another group of men left from one of the other houses and the man leading it shouted in greeting to Jermiah, who merely gritted his teeth in annoyance. His aim was obviously to get Harry into his compound before he could be met by any of the other major families and this man leaving his house just as they came into the semi-circle was too much to be coincidence.

"My lord Murad," Jermiah forced himself to reply, "I did not know you were back from the war, I hope you are well?"

Oh fuck! Harry swore.

The name and the appearance of the man was remarkably familiar to Harry, he was the man who had been appointed as his commander by the Mordor forces after his capture. He was also a man Harry had been told by Esus was ridiculously loyal to the Eye, to the extend he had slaughtered two of his sons when they had refused to desert their wives and families to join up with the Dark Lord when he re-declared himself openly.

"The war goes well, my Lord Jermiah," Murad said grimly, "though I'm sure it pleases your heart endlessly that it does so!"

"Indeed it does," Jermiah replied, "for although after the death of my oldest son I refuse to take any part does not mean I wish for anything other than victory for the forces of the Dark Lord!"

Murad was about to say something in retort to this but stopped as he got close enough that he could see Harry, whom when he looked at Harry could see a flicker of recognition in his eyes. Murad immediately rode closer and started to examine Harry closer.

"You!" Murad said sharply, recognising Harry.

Harry could only nod; he had expected to be recognised.

"The Lord of the Nazgul was much upset when you disappeared," Murad said, "he had heard much about you from his brethren and wished to see these strange powers for himself."

"Shouldn't have allowed me to be captured by the Gondorians then!" Harry said mockingly.

"Captured?" Murad narrowed his eyes, "we thought you dead, the news that you had been captured is disturbing."

"Not just captured, but tortured as well!" Harry said missing the point, "only escaped as they moved me down to a place called Osgiliath on boats."

Murad was now looking at him slightly suspicious, which when the look came from his beady little eyes was very disturbing. Jermiah seemed to sense the hostility in the air, for he smiled very slightly but enough that both wizards could see and immediately cooled their reactions.

"I would never wish to interrupt this reunion," he said with a smirk, "but I'm sure that Lord Murad has somewhere to be, as we do, and I would have no wish to hold him up."

Murad huffed and yanked on his horse's reins, steering in down the road as his couple of attendants formed up behind him. Harry followed Jermiah through the gates of his house although his hand never once left his wand. Dismounting from his horse Jermiah gave orders for Harry's men to be accommodated before motioning for Harry to follow him.

"Come," he said, " we'll go somewhere where we can speak privately."

Harry nodded and dismounted from his horse, tucking his wand into his sleeve and waving off a couple of his men who tried to accompany him. The house in front of him was huge, larger than everything in Jaffa with the possible exception of the palace but in a much better state and more beautifully designed. Made of white stone that reflected the light and made it hard to look at, it truly was a sight to behold.

Jermiah led Harry up onto a balcony overlooking a courtyard below and both of them took seats upon cushioned chairs that some of Jermiah's servants had set there. Harry waited for two of the servants, holding massive fans made out of some sort of feathers, to go but instead they remained behind, when if he remembered that this was supposed to be a private conversation.

"They're deaf and dumb," Jermiah said, noticing Harrys hesitation, "this conversation will remain within these walls."

"Walls can speak," Harry said cautiously.

"Not these ones!" Jermiah said with a predatory smile, "I make sure of that."

Harry nodded and settled back in his chair, it was one thing he had learn over the last couple of months was that to get the most out of negotiations it is necessary to look like you are in control.

"I have arranged for the other four leaders of Akmunsa to come to supper with us tonight," the lord said, sipping from a drink one of his servants provided, "though perhaps in advance you give me an overview of your demands?"

Harry raised his eyebrows, sipping from his own drink; water that had been ice chilled and flavoured with lemon. To get ice here at the temperature without some sort of magic really was something impressive.

"And why should I put you at such an advantage?" Harry asked, "where is the advantage to me?"

"In return I would give an overview of what will be the demands coming from Akmunsa," Jermiah said, "as well as give you some advice on how to direct your demands."

Harry understood now, "you're not trying to get any advantage over me, you are trying to get it over your neighbours."

Jermiah nodded seriously.

"So what do you have for me?" Harry asked, taking another sip.

"Let's start with Murad," Jermiah said, looking out over the balcony, "a fanatic, hate driven against all the enemies of the Dark Lord. He will demand a company of men to enlist in the Dark Lord's army with the probable addition of you going in Minas Morgul."

"He'll get neither," Harry said calmly, "does he have much support among the other families."

"Some," the other man acknowledged, "but only among the lesser families. Jacquan-Hagar will press the families to give you what you want, his family is of Haradrium stock, whereas Benetiz will never support Murad in anything. Meanwhile I own Farquah and so he will do whatever I tell me to do."

Harry placed his drink down, "so that leaves only yourself…"

Jermiah smiled, "I will tell you of my purposes after you tell me of yours, what would you demand?"

"Not much," Harry said, "freedom for attack on both our lands and caravans, a trade agreement would be welcome and your support in some territory issues with other city states would be a bonus."

"Good terms, with the possible exception of the last," Jermiah noted, "I will see it passed, all of it, although I will need some conditions from you in return. This will be my best offer otherwise I will allow Murad and his troops loose on Jaffa."

A threat and one Harry knew he would do best to heed. Slave soldiers are just as good in a fight as others, and they don't need to be paid and Murad would love to collect a company to send into the service of Mordor.

"There is one thing you have forgotten," Harry said.

"Oh, and what's that?" Jermiah enquired politely.

"Me!" Harry said with a touch of threat coming into his voice, "you have heard of my power and I will tell you it is enough to defend the city against your forces, should you carry through with your threat."

Jermiah sighed, "we have our own sorcerers and there is one thing your council forgotten in their haste to get rid of you, you won't be there to defend Jaffa because you are here."

Harry's alarmed face gave him away. He was still a novice as a politician and statesmen but most of those in the council weren't and yet they had still made the massive blunder to send him here; they had put their deterrent into enemy hands. Harry was sensible enough to know he would never be able to fight his way out of here; his soldiers' throats could be cut before he could warn them and Akmunsan sorcerers such as Murad would eventually take him out.

"What are your terms?" Harry asked wearily.

Jermiah grinned, knowing he had won. "We'll discuss this later, until then I will have one of my men take you to your suite."

Harry nodded, having very little choice in the matter. A servant arrived at Jermiah's beckoning and he lead Harry down a series of corridors into a large room that served as a sitting room with a bedroom lying off of it. Harry's luggage packs, the little he had strapped onto his saddlebags had already been brought up and Harry suspected been searched through. Not that he was particularly worried as anything he would rather people wouldn't touch he was keeping on his body for the entire time he was here.

"There are baths downstairs, milord," the servant said, bowing his head. "Lord Jermiah thought you might appreciate one after your journey."

*********The Traveller***********

Harry pulled on the robes that had been laid out for him as a present from Lord Jermiah, he suspected that his host wanted to portray him as a Black Númenórean rather than as a barbaric Haradrium for his robes were of the soft silk in the style than those people tended to favour rather than the baggy rough clothes that he had been used to as a member of the tribe.

He had come from a luxurious bath in a bath house that was attached to the main building, having enjoyed a long soak in both the ice cold and the heated pools. It was designed in much the same way as Harry had seen of Roman baths and there was very little better for getting rid of the accumulating grit and sand that had built up in Harry's skin during his journey.

As Harry had been around the house for the couple of hours since his arrival and through what he had observed and heard Harry had managed to build up a bit of a picture of his host. Lord Jermiah and his wife, who was recently departed, had had two sons together, the oldest who was to die in the service of the Dark Lord, something that had led to Jermiah's reluctance to engage in the same sort of activity, whilst his youngest son was the sallow faced youth who had been with him in the market place. Harry had gathered from chatting with the servants that the two of them had a difficult relationship; his wife had spoiled the boy whilst Jermiah had focused on his oldest son. Now missing his heir, Jermiah had needed to find a new one and so had started to try and renew his relationship with his youngest son.

A knocking on the door brought Harry's attention and he called however it was to enter. It was one of the servants, and he bowed low to Harry.

"The master requests your presence downstairs, milord," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground.

Harry nodded and attached a ceremonial dagger to his belt, slipped his wand into his sleeve and took up his staff of office before following the servant out of the room and down into the entrance hall. From there he was directed into a room that lay off it through large oak doors. In the room beyond there were a group of people reclining around a central table which had a variety of different food laid out on it.

"Ah Harry, please come sit down," Jermiah said from one of the couches.

Harry took a seat on the remaining couch, the one to the right of Jermiah and the one tradition that denoted the position of the guest of honour. A selection of sweet meats, fruit and other foods were laid out in front of him and Harry followed the example of the rest of the guests by helping himself as he liked. As he did so he looked around at the other guests, clearly the five heads of the families with a couple of the more important of the lesser families down the far end of the table, there were five of them bringing the total number around the table excluding Harry to eleven. Murad was easy to recognise and he was studying Harry in great detail, whilst he recognised none of the others.

"Harry allow me to introduce Lord Jacquan-Hagar, Lord Farquah and Lord Benetiz," Jermiah said, motioning towards each as he said his name, "and you know Lord Murad of course. My fellow lords this is Lord Harry Potter, the Serpent Lord and Castellan of Jaffa."

Each and every one of them made various pleasantries with the exception of Murad although Harry felt uncomfortable as he knew that they were all sizing him up and some of them were debating taking his head.

"So it is true then," the one Jermiah had called Lord Benetiz said, "a Black Númenórean is in control of Jaffa, that is a nice development and one that was totally unexpected."

"Not quite in control," Harry said, sticking a piece of cured ham into his mouth, "a position of responsibility perhaps, but I fear not in control."

He had decided that he was going to take on the mantle as being a Black Númenórean, in race at least if in reality, for he looked to be closely related to them and the only other choice would be that of coming from Gondor and to him that was for the moment not a choice. He still hadn't forgiven them for the torture he had suffered at their hands.

"Tell me do you hold to Morgoth?" Murad demanded causing several of his fellow lords to roll their eyes, clearly they were used to his behaviour.

"Not exactly," Harry said carefully, not wanting to upset anyone any more than he had to, "the Haradrium have named me as an Avatar of Sol Draconis and that kind of restricts my options on that front."

That seemed to agree with most of the lords although of course it was not enough Murad, even though Harry hadn't said openly that he didn't worship this Dark God.

"Now we should get down to your proposals," Lord Farquah said, "I in particular would very much like to hear what you have to say…"

Suddenly there was a disturbance outside and all of a sudden all the men were on their feet and drawing their ceremonial dagger. Harry himself was up with the quickest of them, his wand in one hand and his dagger in the other. A moment later there was a raised voice from outside and the door banged open with a thud and a figure strode through it.

Jet black hair, olive coloured skin and covered in black robes, the figure was obviously female and very, very beautiful. She looked a couple of years older than Harry and yet there was something in her that put Harry immediately on edge, the feeling one gets around a beautiful but dangerous predator and over all the feeling of oppressive dark magic. There was no mistaking the feeling of a predator.

"Father!" the woman, curtsying towards Harry's host.

Harry might have imagined it but he could have sworn there was some hostility in the look she directed her father. Lord Jermiah looked like he was about to say something when he was interrupted by Murad who came forward at great speed to claim the girl's hand and deliver a kiss to it.

"My lady Josephine," he said, "it is a pleasure to see you again, I hope your time in Minas Morgul has been of help."

The girl smiled at him, "indeed it has and I thank you for your recommendation it was of great help."

The reason for the feeling of Dark Magic became clear, the girl was a student in Minas Morgul the city of the Nazgul and the centre for Mordor's sorcerers. It would also explain why Murad seemed to like her. All of this Harry imagined would have been what had contributed towards the tension between father and daughter, as Harry knew that he would have appreciated neither her closeness to Murad nor her involvement in the war.

"Josephine my daughter," Jermiah said, "there is someone here I would like you to meet, Lord Harry Potter, the Serpent Lord and Castellan of Jaffa."

Harry rose and bowed his head in greeting, catching as he did so the looks on the faces of both Jermiah and Murad. Jermiah was looking at Harry intensely whilst Murad was now glaring at him with outright hatred, hatred caused by jealousy. The way Jermiah had just seemed to push the pair of them together was unmistakable and Harry now had an idea what one of the conditions for the preservation of Jaffa might be; Lord Jermiah would see his daughter as the lady of Jaffa.

* * *

**AN: Well there's another chapter, and we begin to see much more of the world around Harry. Hopefully the story should start to progress quicker now that some of the background has been built up.**

**Still taking ideas from where to next, both in terms of in Middle Earth and afterwards, so please do give me your ideas.**

**T Horn**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: One more chapter up and in this Harry meets someone important.**

* * *

Chapter 7

"Harry Potter?" the woman asked. "I have heard talk of you."

Harry didn't miss the glance that she shared with Murad, news of him and his arrival must have spread around Minas Morgul. The girl turned back to Harry and looked at his curiously, taking in every aspect of his appearance

"The Lord of the Nazgul is very keen to meet with you," Josephine said coolly.

"So I have heard," Harry replied stiffly, "but I am my own man, should he require me he only needs come and visit me in Jaffa."

A flash of anger entered both her and Murad eyes but Harry couldn't care less. He was and always would be under nobody else's control apart from himself should he get the choice, his various different imprisonments had taught him that it is better to be a leader than a servant.

"I doubt the Lord of Minas Morgul would bother coming so far for such an incompetent waste of good blood," Josephine hissed.

The air and the atmosphere changed immediately. People in between the two magic users were carefully and subtly moving away, whilst Murad moved to support the girl. Harry was careful not to react but he knew that he couldn't stay like that forever, he would appear weak in front of people whom he needed to impress.

Harry smiled, "in that case I am content to live out my life as my own man, free from distractions and foreign wars."

He retook his seat and picked up another slice of meat from the platter, trying to prevent things from kicking off into a full magically duel as such a thing within such a confined space would be disastrous. Slowly others began to return to their seats although they kept a wary eye on both Josephine and Murad who remained standing. Jermiah was the last to sit, glaring coldly at his daughter as he did so.

"So," Lord Benetiz said, "we were discussing your terms…"

"The council would like a mutual friendship to grow between our respective cities, they feel we have much to offer one another," Murad snorted at this but Harry ignored him, continuing, "we would ask that you cease from raiding caravans going to and from Jaffa, to which we will respond in kind. They would also ask

"And what do you ask?" Benetiz said shrewdly.

"I am not sure what you mean," Harry said, "I am a loyal servant of the councils and ask only that you consider their requests."

"You don't serve any council," Jermiah said from next to Harry, "our spies have reported that you seek to serve the people, your decisions on the council reflect this. Which means that as soon as you think the council do not represent the people, you will no longer be loyal to them."

Harry was amazed inside his head about how good the Akmunsan spy network within Jaffa must be for them to know about the decisions that were made among the supposed loyal members of the Council of the Wise.

"I presume you own one of the council members," Harry said in a tired voice.

Jermiah nodded, "we might have arguments among ourselves but over key matters such as a seriously powerful sorcerer taking up residence among people likely to rebel against us, we would be stupid not to unite our resources wouldn't we?"

There was a wave of murmurings of agreements. Harry himself agreed with them; it would not have been wise for them not to put aside their own arguments, it would cripple them much as arguments between the Order and the Ministry crippled the effort against Voldemort.

"So what are your counter demands?" Harry asked.

Lord Farquah shifted and eyes turned to him, "I do not know if I speak for my colleagues here but I am not happy with the idea of an independent, Haradrium controlled city state so close to our primary trade lines, agreement or not. I move to the mobilisation of our armies to eradicate it before they can be a threat towards our incomes."

Murad smiled viciously, "for once my lord Farquah and myself are in total agreement, let us wipe this traitorous dogs and their foul sorcerer from the face of the earth."

Harry was resisting the urge to turn around and look at Jermiah, he had said earlier that Farquah was his man so why had he proposed this. There was nothing he could do for the moment, he would have to wait and see what happened whilst at the same time looking for some escape routes.

He considered whether apparition would work again, it had worked last time when he was in danger but it wasn't sure whether he would be able to do it on purpose as both of the times he had done it before it was as a result to some up and coming danger. As such it was unpredictable and he didn't want to base his escape route off something that was not likely to work. That said he resolved that should he ever get out of here he would practise apparition until he was able to get such a level where he might be able to do it.

"Well there is our solution," Jermiah said softly, causing everyone to look round at him.

Many of those who were present would have turned round to look at him in surprise had they not be consummate politicians and knew that to give away your emotions was a sure way to give away advantage.

"We ensure that it is not Haradrium controlled," he said before looking at Harry, "how would you like a promotion from a mere council member?"

So that was the plan, Harry would be placed as king in Jaffa and from there he would act as a puppet from his Black Númenórean masters back in Akmunsa. In addition Jermiah would have him marry Jermiah and so his offspring would have command of a city with no competition from other families.

Harry laughed, "you would make me King of Jaffa, why would you do that?"

"You're a Númenórean, Black or otherwise it doesn't matter," Farquah said, "and I think that even Murad would rather have a Númenórean in charge than a Haradrium."

Murad looked like he wanted to disagree but close to remain silent.

"You tried this before," Harry reminded them, "what is not to say that it will fail like the last time?"

Murad snorted, "ohh you were so confident in your power a couple of minutes ago, saying that you could take down an army. Changed your mind?" he taunted. "Supported by a couple hundred of our troops I'm sure even you would manage to make yourself king in the kennel!"

"No," Harry said. "None of your troops, people would never support me afterwards and I would be assassinated within months. If I'm going to do this I will have to do it without your open support."

Benetiz nodded, "he's probably right about that, armed support from without will not work. He must find his support from within the tribe."

"How do we know we can trust him?" Murad demanded angrily, "we already know he is close to the Haradrium, why won't be betray us."

"Because it is not in his interest to do so," Jermiah said calmly, "and because one of us will be going with him, back to Jaffa."

Harry could guess who Jermiah was going to ensure was going but he said nothing and just kept quiet. Glances were thrown right and left as people looked for someone to volunteer, but nobody did.

"My daughter, Josephine, will be the one who is going," Jermiah said, looking at his daughter with an expression that could only be called demanding.

"No," the girl protested, "I'm not going, you can't make me and I'm supposed to be learning at Minas Morgul."

"I am your father," Jermiah said coldly, "of course I can make you."

Murad looked up, "I'll go as well, Josephine needs to finish her training and she shouldn't be put in a den of dogs by herself."

"No," Harry refused, "I'll have her but under no conditions is he coming within thirty miles of Jaffa, I don't trust him."

"And you trust me?" Josephine asked scathingly.

"Of course not," Harry scoffed, "but you haven't finished your training and so I would be able to defeat you before you caused too much damage, he I would not be so easily able to do."

Jermiah held up a hand for silence, "Harry will look after her training for her, that is a personal condition from myself, that he teaches her some of his arts. She'll also be accompanied by a household and a company of guards to look after her. I have no intention, Lord Murad, of abandoning my daughter anywhere."

Murad looked like still wanted to argue the point but knew that it was a lost argument, particularly as now Josephine was raising no objection, despite the look of hatred and disgust she wore whenever she looked at Harry.

"Well if we are all having personal conditions," Murad said with a sneer, "my condition is that the boy has fifty men enter into the service of Sauron the Great as soon as he enters power."

Harry shook his head, "that won't work, there are only around sixty men capable of combat in Jaffa and I am not going to just hand over almost all of them just because you demand it."

It was at this point that the Haradrium, Jacquan-Hagar, who had up until this point remained silent decided to speak.

"A compromise where Lord Potter has thirty men ready to march for when the Dark Lord invades Gondor," he said in a quiet calm melodic voice that seemed to have magic of its own, "my only request would be that he continues to treat his people the way he has up until now."

Harry nodded, that was one demand he wouldn't mind acquiescing to. The compromise was ok from his perspective, it gave him time to come up with a suitable excuse or find thirty people who would be willing to volunteer when the time came. Murad too looked like he was if not happy with the compromise at least willing to accept it.

"And if you don't mind me asking," Jacquan-Hagar continued, "why do you want to be king?"

"I don't," Harry said with a sardonic smile, "I just realise I am trapped into becoming one if I want to prevent myself and the rest of the tribe getting massacred."

Jacquan-Hagar stood and coming over to Harry clapped him on his back, "I will make no opposition to this plan. Just remember, young wizard, sometimes it is better to be the dog than the man who controls it, for who is the first who is targeted?"

Slowly the meal wound to a close and the various lords and their retainers left via the gate, leaving only Harry, Jermiah and both of his children. The air of hostility was heavy and became apparent as soon as the last of the guests walked out of the door. Both Castamir and Josephine were looking at each other with loathing, looks they occasional also directed at Harry, who sat tense on the same couch as he had been earlier.

"Father, you cannot honestly think to put one of our own among the dogs," Castamir ranted, "Josephine might be an insipid, useless harlot but she is still one of us, he and his kind aren't."

The look of hostility that he wore on his face would have been scary for Harry had he not been used to seeing such an expression on the faces of Snape, Draco and the rest of the Slytherins. Josephine looked incensed by the way her brother had described her but agreed with him nevertheless.

"He's right, father," she begged, "please don't send me to them. Please, a pairing between Lord Murad and myself would be ever more so beneficial to you then giving me to this dog."

Harry took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. At the moment there was a voice inside his head screaming for him to just draw his wand and curse them, a dose of the cruciatus curse ought to be enough to shut both of them up. Lord Jermiah looked furious as well although unlike Harry he made no attempt to hide it.

"You are my daughter," he hissed, "you shall do as I say!"

"Please father, Murad's family is wealthy and important and he is very close to the Dark Lord," she continued her begging, "this boy is not, he will be the leader of a pack of curs and is not worthy to so much as…."

Her mouth kept moving but no sound came out at all. Harry was on his feet with his wand in his hand and his face was red with fury, his temper had been getting shorter and shorter since Sirius had died and now it had finally snapped. He marched over to where the girl stood trembling, his aura pouring out of his body in suffocating waves that silenced all opposition to him.

"Do you think I want to marry you, either?" Harry spoke with anger lacing every tone, "why would I want to marry an insipid little girl, besotted with a man twice her age. A girl who has no control over her emotions, no tact or diplomacy, a girl with a superiority complex but has less magic in her body than I have in my smallest finger nail. Be silent, neither of us are happy with it but we are going to have to live with it!"

With that Harry cancelled the spell before stalking out of the room and heading back to his room, leaving the two siblings at the mercy of their father's rage.

**********The Traveller*******

Harry adjusted his saddle strap and checked all his equipment was in order. It had been two days since the confrontation after the dinner and the only meeting Harry had had with any of the family had been a couple of words with Jermiah, the rest of them ignored him completely. As a result he had been left mostly to his own devices and had spent some time with his men, as well as dining with Jacquan-Hagar and spending time walking around the city.

It had been decided that he and his men would leave today, Josephine and a company of her father's guards who would make sure that she got there and did not disappear on the journey would follow within the week. Harry wished it could be a little longer but Jermiah had insisted. Pulling himself into his saddle Harry watched as the rest of his men followed suit. Jermiah came up to him and handed him a small parcel, wrapped in paper.

"A gift for the parting," he said, before leaning closer. "Words do not describe my shame at my family's behaviour, I can only seek to compensate their behaviour. You have a friend in Akmunsa, don't forget it."

With that he clasped Harry's hands before backing away and watching as the assembled horsemen touched their heels to their horses' sides and moved in slow procession through the city and out of the gates.

"So how did the mission go, milord?" Kharn asked not long after they were out of sight of the city, "it didn't seem they have any plans to attack us."

"It went ok," Harry grunted, tired of being back in the saddle already, "they're not going to attack us, even got some trade concessions out of it."

Kharn nodded, "and what did they want in return?"

Harry glanced at him in slight suspicion, he wondered to whom Kharn answered probably Sharpur as he commanded the military. However Harry imagined he was asking this out of personal interest, for Sharpur would have known that Harry would never have told Kharn anything he didn't plan to tell Sharpur and the rest of the council himself.

"We have to have some men ready for war against Gondor," Harry said, "that and the daughter of our host will be coming to live in Jaffa."

"Not too bad negotiating, well done!" the other man said admiringly. "A couple of men and look after a man's daughter."

"You're not the one who is going to be marrying her," Harry said sourly.

Kharn pulled on his reigns and turned to look at Harry in shock and horror, a reaction that was mirrored from around them by the other men of the escort who had been listening in to their conversation.

"Marry her!" he asked, "you have to marry her?"

"It's not official yet," Harry said quickly, not wanting them to get the wrong idea, "but Jermiah indicated that is going to be a latter demand. So might as well get used to it."

Many of the men seemed indignant on his behalf but Harry was long past that stage. Josephine was a pretty enough girl he supposed, on the outside at least ignoring the fact that her personality had some major issues, and she would know how she was expected to behave.

******The Traveller**********

It was evening ten days after they had left that once again the company rode beneath the arched gate of Jaffa and into the now quiet market place of the city. A couple of heads looked out of doors and windows as they heard the sound of hoof beats and there were more than a few shouts of joy at his return.

Dismounting from his horse Harry dismissed his escort, asking one of them to take his horse to his private stables whilst telling another one to go and call a meeting of both councils in the palace in quarter of an hour.

Once they were all met Harry when through what had occurred whilst he was away in Akmunsa, leaving out as few details as he could whilst still not making any mention of the deal he had had to make which would see him set on the throne of Jaffa. There were murmurs of appreciation at the relatively easy terms that Harry had managed to extract from the Akmunsans and a couple of the council members were curious about the trade concession that Harry had been able to wangle.

"So this daughter of one their lords is coming here as an envoy?" Sharpur said sceptically.

"Of a sort," Harry said.

Sharpur raised an eyebrow, "explain!"

Harry answered with a shrug, "her father would see the two of us married if he could, although neither myself or the girl would have it that way but unfortunately it seemed like an unspoken part of the arrangement."

"Unspoken," Esus asked, from the other side of the room.

"She has a suitor that Lord Jermiah does not appreciate and with this he can kill two birds with one stone," Harry said, "solve the problem with the suitor and get a spy in some position of authority within Jaffa, a spy who answers to him alone."

"You have done well," Sharpur said gruffly, deep in thought.

Harry thanked him as he dismissed himself. He could see that for Sharpur the major problem with the agreement was the possible marriage of Harry and Josephine, which could be problematic not that Harry would mind if Sharpur found some way to change Jermiah's mind. The problem was that instead of Harry, it might he Sharpur or one his sons that would marry Josephine and then that could cause problems for Harry.

He was going to have a headache in the morning Harry realised with a groan.

It was a couple of days later when a messenger arrived early in the morning telling them that Josephine should be expected to arrive later that evening. Harry had sighed when he had heard the news as it meant that he would have to find even more room in his already busy schedule to ensure that everything was ready for their guest as well as finding time to greet her and give her a tour of the city.

Esus and Sharpur both suggested that she be accommodated within the palace so that they could both keep an eye on her but Harry persuaded them out of it for he didn't want any of news of the deal he had made with the Black Númenóreans coming to either Sharpur's or Esus' ears. So it had been decided that she would be have the magistrate's quarters which backed onto Harry's own house and from which could be easily reach through a narrow back avenue.

The house had then been furnished tastefully, at least in the Haradrium sense although Harry, having seen the palaces of the Black Númenóreans, knew that she would loath it but frankly he didn't care. Her father was not going to cause problems just because she complained to him that she didn't like her accommodation.

Harry didn't like Josephine but he knew that he was going to have to put up with her whilst she was here and if he ended up marrying her, well he could always dose her up with a love potion if her hatred was beginning to become too much for him, that is if he could remember how to rustle up a decent one. That was another thing that he needed to sort out actually, he had a limited number of potion ingredients that he recognised here so that meant that either he would have to go on the search for the ones he knew or try out the ones that were native to Harad. Fortunately some things like beetles and newts were universal creatures.

So it came that that evening Harry was standing with the assembled dignities of Jaffa waiting for the group from Akmunsa to arrive. Karlon had been sent out to form an honour guard and Harry imagined that part of the reason was that Sharpur was trying to remove the direct links between the Akmunsan nobility and Harry, either to isolate the young wizard or to try and gain their support for his own cause. It seemed like things were going as Harry had predicted.

A clattering of horses' hoofs sounded their approach and the first few riders emerged into view from the viewing platform in front of the palace. They were all done up splendidly, with decorated coats with gold lace and trimmings clearly done to emphasise to anyone who hadn't got it yet the sheer difference in wealth terms between Jaffa and Akmunsa. The riders were formed around a horse drawn carriage, which at first surprised Harry but then again not as he remembered the spoilt girl whom was almost certainly in it.

The carriage came to a stop in front of the platform and Karlon beat a couple of the Akmunsan soldiers to be the one to open the door with a low bow and allow the lady inside to step out. A dainty foot was the first thing that emerged and when the full figure became clear Harry had to resist a groan.

Josephine's appearance caused a series of gasps and murmurings from those watching around the market place. If the costumes of her escort had been excess and finely decorated then Josephine's made them look shabby and insignificant in comparison. Fine pearls were sown into each and every one of the hems of the dress whilst the whole thing was covered in lace and precious stones. Harry shook his head, it would be hard for the common people of Jaffa to accept this and almost impossible for them to like her. Josephine had just made her job a lot harder, and his with it.

She greeted each and every one of the council members politely and gave them each gifts as a thank you for their up and coming hospitality; gifts such as a bone handled knife, or a fine crafted goblet. It was quite funny because Harry who knew her knew that she was speaking with her father's voice, he had told her what to say and to whom each comment and compliment should be directed. Finally it came to him.

"Lord Serpent," she said, deliberately mangling his title, "a gift as a sign of our continuing friendship, a History of the Númenóreans from our time in Numenor to now."

"I thank you kindly for your gift, Lady Josephine," Harry said with a false smile on his face.

Instead of going further down the line than where Harry was standing Josephine chose to stay close to Harry as opposed to the Haradrium council members. For although she might loath him, but Josephine hated the Haradrium more, seeing them as little more than half civilised dogs. She had taken after her brother in that way and Jermiah had asked that Harry try and teach her some sense over the matter although Harry wasn't sure he was going to even try and bother.

He had to admit she was stunning, ruby red lips, tanned skin and wavy black hair that seemed to sparkle in the sun. Yet he knew that part of the attraction was the way she moved, like that of a predator, for that was how he thought of her a young lion cub that has yet to learn how to hunt properly and is too confident in their own abilities. Harry would enjoy showing her what she was lacking, he would break her before building her back up in the image he wanted. Or at least that was the plan.

Harry clasped her offered hand and bent to kiss it, being careful that his lips made contact only with his own fingers rather than the hand they were holding. From the slight huff that she gave Harry could tell it annoyed her, the thought gave him a smile on his face.

"If you would follow me I could escort you to the rooms set aside for you?" Harry offered politely.

Josephine looked like she was going to accept, whilst at the same time saying some cutting and biting about the Haradrium but Sharpur decided to intervene.

"It is ok, Lord Harry," he said with a smile, "I am sure you have some religious work to be getting on with, I would be delighted to escort Lady Josephine."

Harry had to restrain a smile as he acquiesced. Sharpur was widowed and he could imagine that he was trying to arrange a political match for either himself or one of his sons, this one would bring him the support of Akmunsa, or at least so he imagined. Sharpur was welcome to her, Harry at least had the advantage of being Numenorean in appearance and in the minds of Josephine and her family, whereas Sharpur was one of those 'filthy dogs'.

Making the suitable goodbyes Harry walked across the square, glad to be saved from having to look after Josephine and her massive ego this evening. He had quite frankly knackered and he was certain that his bed was calling from him. Harry wearily made his way back up the steps leading to the temple pausing at the top he saw a young man fidgeting. Harry raised his eyebrows, asking what was the matter. The boy took a couple of breaths to calm himself down before speaking.

"Milord, the blue wizard waits with in."

Mind reeling Harry walked cautiously through the door. He knew of the Blue Wizard of course through his reading; one of the order of Istari who came from the West to combat Sauron, powerful sorcerers each and every one of them. Whilst most of the Order had remained in the north and west, beyond Gondor, two of them had come east and south where they settled among the Haradrium and the Easterlings to try and convince them to rebel against Sauron. However although they met some measure of success, both of them had disappeared a few hundred years ago to where nobody knows but it was rumoured that they had been converted to the serve of the Dark Lord.

Carefully looking into the corners of the room Harry looked around to make sure he was not about to be ambushed. Seeing the room was absolutely clear he began to look around for this Blue Wizard.

"Show yourself!" Harry said in a calm voice, one that disguised the fear inside his body.

"I am right here!" came a voice from in front of the altar.

Sure enough there was a slight hazing that followed the statement and a figure appeared almost out of nowhere. Harry's first impression of him was that he was tall, a good half a foot taller than Harry himself was, a difference that was magnified by the tall dark blue pointed hat that the man wore on his head. In his hand was a staff of polished wood with a blue crystal orb resting on the top of it and his robes were of the deepest blue that Harry had ever seen. His hair was white and he made Dumbledore look ancient as there was something about him that made it feel as if all life had been sucked out of him, a contrast from Harry's old Headmaster who always seemed so full of life.

"Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, I have waited a long time for you." He said with an even voice that despite its frailty just spoke of power.

Harry stiffened at the use of the title that he had never ever used in this world and one that he had been sure that nobody here knew. The man in front of him seemed to him to be filled with contradictions; strength where there looked only weakness, power and frailty seemed to go hand in hand. It made Harry uneasy.

"Dreams are powerful things young wizard," he said quietly, "I am Alatar, also known as the Blue Wizard, member of the Order of the Istari."

"People said you were dead," Harry said, "clearly you are not."

Alatar smiled a smile that brought pictures of Dumbledore to Harry's head, "yes, well they tend to do that. But that is not why I am here, I am here to teach you."

Harry's head started spinning, this was so very different from being taught a couple of spells by Esus or reading a couple of scrolls on old Númenórean sorcery. This was one of the Maia who was offering to teach him, one of the lesser gods and one of the most powerful magic users alive.

"Yet before we start I have a gift for you," he said, "I have seen through my observation of you that your foci is broken, so I thought to bring you this."

He turned around and went over to the altar and lifted up something that Harry was pretty sure had not been there when he had last come through here. It was a staff, not unlike Alatar's own, but with veins of a light sky blue metal that ran through the wood rather than a crystal at the tip.

"It's previous owner never liked having a crystal at the tip," Alatar said saddened slightly, "the metal comes from a fallen star we came across not long after we landed in this land with the others in our Order."

Alatar carefully placed the staff in Harry's hands. As soon as the staff touched Harry's hands he had to restrain a moan, the feeling was pure heaven as the staff strummed with unrestrained power and the metal began to emit a faint blue light with illuminated a series of runes and characters that ran down the edge. Harry raised it and twirled it clumsily in his hands, it felt so right in his hands and he knew once he had perfected the art of using it the staff would become a true work of art in his hands.

"Now we have to teach you how to use that," Alatar said satisfied.

Harry could not prevent letting his hands run over the polished wood, down the grooves which contained that bluish metal that just shone and glistening with power. It was so beautiful and yet so powerful.

"Whose was?" Harry asked, not taking his eyes off his new staff, "who was the previous owner that you mentioned?"

Alatar smiled fondly, "his name was Pallando, he was my brother and the other of the blue wizards."

"He's dead?" Harry asked, awed that he now had the staff of one of the most powerful wizards of this world.

"Not quite," Alatar said, sitting down on the steps that led up to the altar of Sol Draconis, Harry taking a seat next to him, "when we first came east we worked with the Haradrium and the Easterlings against Sauron, but then we discovered a secret that we were not supposed to and everything changed."

"What was the secret?"

Alatar shook his head, "you are not ready for it, someday I shall tell you but not until you are ready for it could destroy you and everything you hold dear."

"Like it did for you and Pallando?" Harry guessed.

Alatar sighed, "it changed us, I got depressed whilst Pallando grew angry. The Enemy began to manipulate his anger and soon Pallando was marching on Gondor with an army of Easterlings, seeking to destroy all the realms of goodness before attacking the Valar."

"He planned to attack the Valar? The Elvish gods?" Harry asked surprised, he had read in his histories that the last army to attempt thus, an army of Númenóreans under Sauron's sway, had been obliterated.

"Yes, his anger destroyed his reason," Alatar said softly, "I was forced to confront him before he got too far. I defeated him but could never destroy him for he is my brother, instead I imprisoned him within this ring."

He showed Harry a ring on his finger that was a band of gold with a deep sea blue gem set within it. As Harry was looking at it for a moment he thought he saw a face and he blinked bewildered.

"What is this secret that so changed you?" Harry asked, admittedly horrified.

Alatar fixed him with a glare, which slowly softened.

"It is a secret beyond anything I could have imagined," the elderly wizard whispered, "it destroyed everything I thought was good and reinforced me against everything I thought was evil. It sets those who know it against everything else in the world."

Harry shivered, he was glad Alatar had waited and not told him what the secret was because there was something inside him that just screamed that he was not ready for this thing which would destroy him.

"So why are you here?" Harry asked.

"To teach you," Alatar smiled, "to advise you and to prepare you for what is to come."

Harry had to suppress a yawn, "so when are we going to start the lessons?"

"Not now, not today," Alatar chuckled, "as I imagine that you would very quickly fall asleep on me, and it is very hard to learn if you are asleep. Oh and I hope you don't mind but I have put my things in your spare room, thought it would be best to be at hand."

Harry looked bemused, "how did you get passed…..?"

"The snakes," Alatar chuckled, again reminding Harry of a better version of Dumbledore, "my dear wizard, you didn't think a couple of snakes could best a wizard such as myself."

* * *

**AN: And there he is, I thought I would introduce him this chapter instead of the next. The secret Alatar holds is going to be central to the story but I didn't want it coming out too soon. I hope this is continuing to be different from what is normal, it is the way I like to write.**

**Thanks again to everyone who is reviewing, it makes writing worth it.**

**T Horn**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Here is another chapter, I am properly churning them out this week. Thank you again to all the people who review and follow this story, it does make a big difference.**

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Chapter 8

Harry started as he woke suddenly after a bucket of water was emptied over his head. Looking around he saw that his new mentor was sitting on the other bed, his staff leaning on the wall and a smile on his face.

"Time for your lesson," Alatar said gruffly, his beard not hiding his grin.

"But there's no light," Harry complained, "the Sun hasn't risen yet and from the look of it won't do so for another couple of hours."

Nevertheless, despite his complaining, Harry pulled away the bed sheets and pulled on a robe before slipping his feet into his boots. Grabbing his staff and his wand Harry followed Alatar out into the courtyard where the cool desert air pulled what was left of sleep from his eyes. Alatar had clearly already done some arranging as there were two seats set out and an array of different targets in front of him.

"Right well, I thought we might start with some of your powers," Alatar said taking a seat, "you won't know this but I am a high priest of Sol Draconis myself, as well as every other of the Haradrium gods. So that is where we will start."

"Religion and faith are weapons," he continued his lecture, "never underestimate their effect upon believers. Gods need worship to sustain them, it is through that they get their nourishment and without worshippers a god quickly fades, but in return for our worship they give us protection and some power."

Harry was fascinated, "what powers?"

Alatar picked something up from the ground and showed it to Harry, it was a rod not unlike the one he had as castellan of Jaffa except this one had a snake made of gold coiled around it. There was something unmistakeably magical about it.

"A staff of a High Priest of Sol Draconis," Alatar intoned, "a powerful object which allows its wielder to use some of its god given powers provided he has some faith in Sol. To use it you must honestly believe with all your heart that in Sol's existence and power."

"But I don't believe in Sol," Harry admitted.

Alatar looked at him, annoyed; "weren't you listening to what I was saying, worship empowers a god and if you start worshipping something that doesn't exist you bring it into existence through the very act."

"You mean people create gods, not the other way round?" Harry asked disbelieving.

Alatar smiled, "yes that is exactly what I am saying although gods do often create peoples. How the gods of creation are created is something that is part of the secret and you will have to wait for."

"So Sol Draconis and all the other gods definitely exist?" Harry asked, worried that Sol might take Harry's lack of faith as an insult.

"Of course," Alatar said, "and they grant their worshippers power depending on what characteristics the god has, for example Sol Draconis allows his highest level of priests, of which we are both members, to use the magic of his sacred animal, the snake."

"You mean parsel magic?" Harry asked.

"I would presume that would be incantations using the tongue of snakes," Harry nodded, "yes, though through the staff you do not need to be able to speak the tongue."

Harry was excited properly now, "what can I do, some high powered curses and stuff?"

Alatar sighed, "no, Harry, think about this and think about who apart from select humans can use parsel magic as you call it?"

Harry had to think for a couple of minutes, "snakes," he said slowly, "snakes can speak parseltongue and so can use parsel magic!"

"Correct, maybe there is some hope for you," he ignored Harry's look of hurt, "what use would snakes ever have for high powered curses, torture curses and destroying things?"

"None," Harry replied, ashamed of his slightly childish thoughts, "so what can I do?"

"What would a snake use magic for?" Alatar replied with a question.

Harry thought again, "freezing animals to prevent them escaping?"

"Good," Alatar said, "that is one of the uses, a strong freezing curse. Others are poison strengtheners, normally used for their venom of course, and spells to reduce tiredness , increase the air temperature around them and heighten their senses."

"Are all the different types of magic like that," Harry asked, "the ones from the gods?"

Alatar nodded, "yes, those tales of someone getting strength through religion are human responses rather than magic from the gods. However now it is time to practise the freezing curse, for this one we will start with the staff and think the word _freeze_ in your head whilst directing your staff at the object. We'll start slow and small!"

With that he threw the snake staff into Harry's hand and lifted his own one, the one with the blue crystal orb and released what must have been thirty little bush rabbits from some cages he had along the side.

Harry spun round and sighted his first target. Raising his staff Harry aimed it in the same way as he would a wand and thought in his mind.

_Freeze!_

There was a slight whoosh coming from the end of the staff but none of the visible wand fire that Harry was used to. Unfortunately his spell had not worked perfectly as although the rabbit's back legs had stilled the rest of it had been able to overpower the curse and even now was desperately trying to escape despite the fact that its back legs weren't able to move.

"You need to have more faith, Harry!" Alatar shouted from the other side of the courtyard, "both in yourself and in your god. Do it!"

It had worked. Ok it was not perfect but Harry was still in some degree of shock, he hadn't expected anything to happen, just for this to either be a joke or Alatar being a bit of a nutcase. But the spell had worked and Harry was wrong. Harry resolved to not again question his new teacher without good reason.

_Freeze!_

_Freeze!_

_Freeze!_

Three rabbits fell totally paralyzed onto the ground of the courtyard and Harry looked up to see approval on Alatar's face.

"Well done, Harry," the older wizard said, "and now put away the rod and try and do it with just without it. Think about what you want to happen and saw the words."

Harry nodded and as he opened them he imagined there was a snake on the ground before him, its tail flicking as it hunted out the remaining rabbits. For good measure he raised his hand and pointed it at the nearest rabbit.

"_Freeze!" _he hissed in parseltongue.

The rabbit froze with the exception of its eyes which were rolling around its head desperately trying to find its attacker or an escape route. However after a couple of seconds the spell broke and the rabbit bolted. Harry panted, the difference between using the rod and not was massive.

"It's so much harder this way!" he told Alatar, gasping.

"I sure it is," Alatar said, lighting a pipe, "but it will become easier. You must practise this until you can do it without speaking aloud, then we will process onto bigger animals, then humans and finally try it on myself."

"You?" Harry asked confused.

Alatar nodded, "yes myself, for not only is my nature harder to enchant but also all magic users have a natural resistance to magic. You must learn to beat it!"

"You said earlier than the more worshippers a god has the more powerful he is?" Harry asked wanting this clarified, "so who is the most powerful god in Middle Earth?"

Alatar raised his eyebrows, "a good question, to which I suppose the best answer is nobody. The Valar's might has diminished with the passing of the elves and the few men who worship him."

"So what about Morgoth?" Harry asked.

Alatar frowned, "ah yes Melkor, or Morgoth as you know him. He is part of the reason the Valar send my Order, to ensure the defeat of Sauron."

"Why?" Harry asked, "isn't he dead?"

The elderly wizard half smiled, "did I not tell you that a god cannot die, they just fade? Melkor is faded, not by a lack of worship but by the power of the Valar. They used up a lot of their powers to do so and so is why they are weak.

"And the Valar think that if Sauron wins, Morgoth will get enough worshippers to break free?" Harry guessed.

Alatar smiled, impressed, "that is so. It is why I was sent here though I fear I have failed by duty as worship of the Dark One grows by the hour."

"So what now?" Harry asked.

Alatar gave a sadistic look that terrified Harry, "I believe you have a young woman to be looking after during the day!"

Harry groaned.

**********The Traveller************

It was around an hour later when Harry made his way to the lodgings that had been set aside for Josephine. He walked with his new staff in his hand and a knife in his belt. The staff made an odd clinking noise every time it hit the ground and Harry could not resist the childish urge to ram it down extra hard to make the sound all the more satisfying.

Harry stopped at the end of the street that lead down to the house. Sharpur as well as one of his sons were waiting outside talking with each other, to be joined a moment later by Josephine herself. She was accompanied by several of her guards and Harry could see that their captain was looking around for someone. Him.

When he saw Harry he headed down the street, leaving Josephine in the care of Sharpur, and came over to where Harry was leaning against the wall surveying the scene.

"From the look of it," Harry grinned, "I would say I might be getting off looking after your mistress today."

The captain grinned back, "I'm sure you wish it was that way but I was told to make sure that you and my dear cousin became as acquainted as possible."

"Cousin," Harry laughed, "my dear friend, I do feel sorry for you."

"Many do," he held out his hand, "the name's Thain, Lord Jermiah is my mother's brother. We better go and meet my dear cousin."

They bantered as they headed down the street, Harry thought it might be quite possible that he and Thain could become good friends for the boy was only a year older than he was and was good company, they also shared a deep dislike of both of his cousins and a grudging admiration for their father.

"Do not worry my lord Sharpur," Thain said when they reached the others, "my Lord Harry here has graciously granted to show myself and my cousin around the time, we would not want to take up any of your precious time."

"I would rather be shown around by someone who is important in this town rather than him," Josephine said cattily.

"I'm hurt, Lady Josephine," Harry said before Thain could make peace between them, "I would rather someone else did as well but unfortunately this is your father's orders and so we will have to make do with them."

The girl however didn't reply, instead she was staring at the staff in Harry's hand. The young wizard was slightly amused as he saw his reluctant betrothed getting paler and paler. Their companions were looking at her with worry on their features but Harry could just resist the savage grin that was threatening to burst onto his own.

"How did you get that?" Josephine finally regained her voice, "do you even know what it is?"

If Harry didn't know better he would say that she was jealous, jealous and angry. Probably did not like the idea of someone as lowly as myself holding such as historically important item, Harry reflected to himself.

"Of course," he replied, "my teacher, the previous owner's brother was the one to gift it to me."

Josephine was now stunned, "your teacher is Alatar, the Blue Wizard?"

Harry nodded. Sharpur's eyes had widen massively whilst Thain looked like he wanted to be somewhere else, writing a note to his uncle Harry imagined. Oh Harry enjoyed the looks of awe he was getting and was looking forward to those that were coming as well as the news spread. The Serpent Lord was getting lessons from the mystical and thought long dead Blue Wizard, that would be a rumour that would spread throughout the whole of Harad and possibly even further.

"Yes," Harry said dismissively, "he is, just come from a lesson with him just now actually regarding some of the more mystical types of magic. He truly is a tome of magical secrets although of course he is learning a couple from me but that's how these things go."

There were now quite a few sceptical looks, coming mainly from Sharpur and Josephine, he had probably gone a bit too far there, but oh well who honestly cared it was true after all. Thain, for all his good personality, seemed to be a bit lacking in the intelligence area and so didn't pick up on Harry's over exaggeration and so was looking at Harry with wonder.

"I doubt that is true!" Josephine said with scorn in her voice.

"Ask him yourself, I was planning to invite you to eat lunch with us," he had been planning no such thing but he was not going to let her get the better of him, "now are you going to come with me or can I return to my lessons?"

Josephine looked torn for a couple of seconds, "fine I shall come with you, if for nothing else but the lunch."

*********The Traveller*********

Harry spent a couple of hours showing Josephine around the city and having to put up with her constant looks of disgust, superiority and loathing. He was unsurprised when she invited herself to lunch, he would if he were in her situation for the opportunity to meet a figure such as the Blue Wizard would be too tempting to ignore. However he would have done in a more polite and subtle way rather than ordering him to comply, Harry had been tempted to refuse but realised that would cause more problems than it was worth.

Thus it was that he and Josephine entered the temple to head through to his private quarters for the meal, it gave him an excuse not to invite Esus and Sharpur as it was only an informal meal. He looked forward to seeing his betrothed's expression upon the measly meal of porridge oats or whatever it was that his servants had cooked up for their meal today.

Josephine followed Harry threw the passageway from the main room and into the room with the snakes. Harry considered for a moment letting her go first and watch as they attacked her before deciding otherwise, though if he ever needed to kill someone that was how he was going to do it, no need to dispose of the body.

As they entered the courtyard the sound of some god-awful humming reached their eyes and Harry groaned, he had already guessed who it was who was making the noise. His suspicions were realised a couple of seconds when Alatar appeared whistling a tune un-tunefully as loud as he could. He smiled when he saw the two of them standing there and waved them over.

"Oh Harry I decided to take care of lunch," he said happily, "I'm sure you don't mind."

"That depends what you made," Harry said drily, "Josephine this is Alatar, the infamous Blue Wizard. Alatar this is Josephine, the daughter of one of the Lords of Akmunsa."

"And your betrothed," Alatar said cheekily, "my dear Josephine, I have heard so many things about you from my dear apprentice here," he winked at Harry, "all good I can assure you."

Josephine raised a perfect eyebrow, "I'm sure!"

Alatar grinned, "right shall we eat, it's ready and I have everything laid out."

He hurried away and Josephine looked after him worried. Harry grinned, obviously the great Blue Wizard didn't live up to her expectations. He could imagine that she was expecting someone a lot more grander, someone who seemed a lot more wise rather than Alatar. Harry briefly considered whether the fight with Pallando and the loneliness afterwards had driven his mentor slightly mad.

Alatar's head poked out of the canopy he had erected to form some sort of outdoors dining room, "well, are you coming or not?" he asked.

Harry and Josephine hesitantly followed Alatar beneath the canopy and glanced warily at the food that was placed in front of them. At first glance everything appear normal, there was the normal cut of meat and the spread of vegatables that could be found locally. But there was something off with the meat itself, it was perfectly circular and was an odd whitish colour that looked more like chicken than any meat Harry had ever had here.

"What is that?" Josephine asked horrified at the meat, which even Harry admitted to be looking dubiously at.

"A local delicacy," Alatar said with a cheerful grin, "which reminds me, Harry, I had to put down on of your little pets."

Harry groaned, "why?"

Alatar held up his cloak, "he wrecked by favourite cloak, so I had to teach him a lesson. I must say he tastes a lot better than he behaves."

Both Josephine and Harry almost simultaneously spat out the meat that they had reluctantly put in their mouths, looks of absolute horror on their faces.

"This is snake?" Josephine cried.

"This is one of my snakes?" Harry said disgusted.

"I don't know what you are complaining about, it is quite good though could perhaps do with a little bit of pepper," Alatar said thoughtfully, before grinning at the pair sitting opposite him, "you know the two of you have more in common than you like to think."

The two of them caught each other glancing at each other for a second before they looked away, Harry resolutely not looking up from his food whilst Josephine was glaring at Alatar fiercely. However the old man just chuckled and ignored the hostile looks sent his way.

"Right," Harry said, pushing the remainder of his food away from him, "I suppose we better go, I haven't shown you the other temples so we can do that. You ready to go?"

"No," she replied firmly.

"No?" Harry asked, "why not?"

Josephine flickered some hair out of her annoyingly perfect face, "you promised my father that you would teach me some of your magic, I promised my father than I would behave therefore in order to get me to behave you need to teach me some of your arts."

Harry looked at Alatar but he just shrugged and motioned for him to begin, picking up a bunch of grapes from the table and slipping a couple of them into his mouth. Helpful sod. Getting to his feet Harry beckoned Josephine and told her to go and stand out in the centre of the courtyard whilst he began to think. He needed a way to ensure that Josephine would not teach other people about the magic he could do, after all it was one of the only advantages he had in this world. Remembering a conversation he had overheard once, Harry began to plan.

"Right, there is something I need you to do before I agree to teach you anything?" Harry said firmly. "I need you to swear an oath saying that you will never pass on any of the information regarding my magic, its limits, its strengths or any teachings that I give to you."

Josephine sighed, "fine, I swear not to tell anyone any of what you teach me!"

"Pass on, not just tell," Harry said gently, "and I need something a little more binding than a mere oath."

Harry reached into his pocket and placed his wand down on the table, frowning at the way the strapping was holding together, he might need a more permanent solution sooner that he had thought.

"In my world," Harry explained, "there is an oath called a Unbreakable Oath, sworn upon the oathmaker's magic and breaking it causes unpleasant consequences that you would not like to experience."

"What?" Josephine said cautiously.

Harry smiled, "first of all as you swear on your magic when you break the oath your magic is ripped from you. Such a process can result in madness, suicide or death through the extreme levels of pain it causes. So if you want me to teach you anything I would suggest you don't tell anyone anything."

Josephine had paled the more Harry spoke so that by the time he had finished she was looking unhealthily white.

"Can I tell only one person?" she pleaded.

Harry shrugged, "tell me the name and I will consider it!"

Josephine hesitated for a moment, "Murad?"

"No!" Harry said before she had almost finished saying the name, "no way am I allowing that snake anywhere near the secrets of my magic!"

"I thought you were supposed to like serpents?" Alatar said in the background, but both of the teens ignored him.

"You're just jealous of him," Josephine accused.

Harry paused, genuinely puzzled, "why would I be jealous of him?"

Josephine looked incensed, "because he has everything you want; he is a powerful sorcerer, he is high up in the service of the Dark Lord, he is important in an important town and he has my love and he returns it a hundred fold!"

Both Harry and Alatar stared at the girl in amazement, the older wizard being slightly more able to resist the snorts of laughter than threatened to erupt. Harry just looked at her unbelieving whilst Alatar looked at her with a degree of pity.

"Just to start with," Harry said, "I have fought against Dark Lords before, they don't care about their minions. To them they are just fodder to soak up arrows, do you not think that if the Dark Lord cared about his servants he would send them into battle to get slaughter, don't you think he would come up with better strategies than the all-out charge?"

Harry was impressed with his own eloquence, that had been quite a good speech if he was to say so himself. Alatar seemed to agree for he was nodding along at all the right points and murmuring agreement. In contrast Josephine just seemed stunned though by what Harry was not sure, whether it was his violent outburst or his logic, either was possible.

"And in regard to him being a powerful sorcerer," Harry said dismissively, "both Alatar and myself far out class him in the power league and my magic is so much more versatile than his. Hell, if I was given a month to train you, you could beat him easily."

"That's not true!" Josephine protested, "Murad said he beat you in the town where they found you, knocked you clean out he said."

"And did he mention I was fighting with a broken wand and had already surrender to those Nazgul things?" Harry inquired innocently, "no, I thought not!"

Josephine was still defiant, "he still loves me and I love him! That is something you want!"

Harry looked at her disbelieving, "you honestly think I want you to love me? Ok I would admit I would prefer it was that way as it would cause me less problems but from your position I couldn't give a fig about whether or not you love me, just that you don't try to kill me or do something else stupid."

"And besides," Harry said, "how naïve are you? Do you honestly think that Murad really loves you?"

"Of course he does," Josephine said, although even Harry could sense the slight hesitation, "why wouldn't he?"

Harry raised his eyebrows, "perhaps because he knows that your father favours you over your brother and so you will be more likely to inherit his estate. Even if your brother does inherit it, Murad will know that there would be too much opposition for Castamir to have a little accident. He's playing you, quite well I must admit, there are several things I could learn from him."

Josephine's bottom lip had an ever so slight tremor in it and there was a slight redness around her eyes.

"Don't you think it is possible that he only wants you because of your physical beauty, which I would admit you have, your talents at magic and your family's wealth and position?" Harry pressed ruthlessly.

Harry had absolutely no idea whether or not what he was saying was true or not. He imagined that part of it was but then he had also seen deep affection, lust and longing in Murad's eyes when he had looked at Josephine, so it was not too much of a stretch of the imagination to presume that there was a strong chance that he loved her. Harry didn't care, he was enjoying the pain he was causing in the young woman before him as her dreams were destroyed and besides if Murad really did love her then the pain it would cause him as Harry turned her against him would be even more satisfying.

"And you're better than he is?" Josephine asked, her voice catching, "you are just using me as well!"

"Yes I am," Harry said unsympathetically, "but I am doing so openly, letting you know instead of pretending to love you in order to manipulate you. So yes I am doing this in a better and more noble way than he is!"

"Noble?" Josephine choked.

Before Harry could say anything else she was away heading back down the side street off the courtyard that led to her own quarters. As she left Harry could see the redness in her eyes and knew that as soon as she was out of sight she would be crying her eyes out.

"Was that necessary?" Alatar asked patiently and not in that accusing tone that Harry would have hated to hear at that moment.

"Probably," Harry grunted, "now there is less of a chance of her slipping a knife between my ribs, just because her boyfriend asks her to."

Alatar nodded, "and in doing so you destroyed her dreams."

"Better I did it than Murad did," Harry said unsympathetic, although he was feeling uncomfortable about the exchange, had he been too harsh?

"If you say so," Alatar shrugged unconvinced, "love is not a subject I have great expertise in."

"Surely there is no a subject that the great Blue Wizard is ignorant of?" Harry said in mock astonishment, "you must have a woman hidden around somewhere who you get on a little too well with?"

"No," Alatar said patiently.

"An elf?" Harry suggested, unable to resist needling his master.

"No," Alatar said, patience wearing thin as he adjusted the positioning of his staff.

"An orcish woman?" Harry laughed with a grin, "my dear friend, you have really outdone yourself there."

He yelped as he dodged the fireball that left the older wizard's staff, perhaps he should have paid attention to the staff adjusting. Was that the sign that Alatar was losing his temper?

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**AN: Well there is another chapter, I am getting through this quite quickly so might be moving on sooner than I had anticipated. What I have decided to do is from Lord of the Rings onwards to run a couple of crossovers but for them to not be compulsory for the overall plot. I think it is the best way to do, sure if you don't know a particular crossover and decide not to read it you will miss things but I don't want to have to make every crossover vital for the plot.**

**Current front runners are:**

**Game of Thrones/A Song of Fire and Ice**

**Inheritance Series**

**Possible history – arrival in either Rome, Greece or Aztecs (just before the arrival of the Conquistadors) just for a bit of a change from normal stories of this type.**

**Any ideas feel free to message me and please do review**

**T Horn**


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: And here is another short, but very important, chapter. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story and my others, War of the Gods has now passed the thousand follower mark, going to see if I can do the same with this one.**

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Chapter 9

"Men approaching from the south!" the cry echoed around the plaza.

Harry and Alatar who had been sitting under the pillars of the temple, Harry having a history lesson, leapt to their feet and hurried down the steps. Harry readied his wand as he had yet to learn any true offensive magic yet on his staff. He seized a horse from a man holding one out for him and leapt into his saddle as men all around him copied his actions.

As he steadied himself Harry saw Josephine standing in the crowd looking bewildered and lost, so he pushed his way over to her. The girl had kept to herself over the last day since Harry had lost his temper with her and he had only seen her once from a distance. Alatar had told him that he ought to apologise but he had decided that he wouldn't do so until she apologised to him.

"Seems your father breaks his word easily enough," Harry said spitefully.

"No they can't be from Akmunsa,"Josephine shook her head in denial, "my father gave me a code that he would send if they were going to attack so that I could make myself scarce but I haven't heard anything from him."

So the men might not be from Akmunsa then, Harry nodded at Josephine before turning. Alatar had found himself a horse and the Haradrium mounted in the square where looking at him and Harry for orders, something Harry could see was infuriating Sharpur.

"They might not be from Akmunsa," Harry shouted, "do not engage them until I give the order."

Men nodded and the order was relayed through them as men readied their bows and checked their arrows. It was the way that they preferred to fight, ride at the enemy and weaken them with volleys of arrows before sending in the more heavily armoured riders armed with spears. Assuming the head of the column Harry exchanged glances with Alatar before urging his horse forward into a trot. The gate was opened for the riders and their trot broke into a canter and then a gallop.

The convoy was around a couple hundred metres from the city gate and from first estimate Harry would say there were around thirty men there, of which he would say twenty or so were armed. The sunlight glittered off their armour and their spear points, and that was odd for no mere caravan guard would ever earn a coat of plate metal, let alone a group of them.

"Circle them!" Harry shouted.

Immediately the column broke into two, each going in a circle around the caravan whilst Harry and Alatar rode directly towards the head of the group. Once he got within shouting distance Harry pulled his horse to a halt, his mentor doing the same beside him.

"What business do you have in Jaffa?" Harry shouted, trying to sound as important as he could.

"We come here to talk to your leaders!" the man at the head of the caravan shouted.

Alatar leaned in close to Harry, "I recognise that armour and regalia," the Istari whispered, "don't worry they are friends, if not of Jaffa of you."

Harry hesitated for a moment before signalling the men to stand down. If Alatar trusted them then Harry supposed that ought to be enough for him. He was nervous as he rode forward into talking distance, suppose Alatar was wrong. He quickly quashed such feelings before they could show on his face but he was unable to restrain fidgeting slightly.

The armour that Alatar recognised was easy to understand how it was possible for it was very recognisable. The armour was gold or rather had been layer in gold leaf and every man wore beneath it flowing red robes. Scimitars were attached to their waists whilst in the hands they held long pikes with patterns carved into the wood of the shaft so that it looked like snakes were crawling up it. Snakes adorned their breastplates as well, whole variety of them in different shapes and sizes depicted crawling around the sands.

"Harry, meet the Serpent Guard," Alatar said quietly, "the elite guard of the temple in Umbar, the personal guard of the Principal High Priest."

Harry frowned, "what are you doing here, then?"

The man at the front bowed low to Harry, "rumours have reached Umbar of the existence of an avatar, rumours later confirmed by letters from Akmunsa. Therefore the Principal sent us to form a personal guard for him and to teach him what he needs to know."

Alatar motioned behind the captain, "who are the rest of the men, not all of them wear the robes and armour of the Serpent Guard."

"That is true," the captain admitted, "a handful of them are servants but there is a new priesthood to be set up in Jaffa with its rebuilding so the rest of them are priests and a couple of acolytes."

"Acolytes?" Harry asked, not familiar with the term.

"Trainee priests," Alatar replied, "priests who have yet to achieve the induction into the holy orders but are still inducted into some of the secrets of the order."

Harry nodded before looking at Alatar, "you trust them and are sure that they are who they say they are?"

Alatar inspected the gear one last time before nodding. Harry turned in his saddle and raised his voice, "stand down, they are friends!"

Immediately the circling stopped and the men pulled their horses to a halt and removed their arrows from their bowstrings. Harry meanwhile turned back to the conversation in front of him.

"Should we moved into the city?" he suggested. "It'll be more comfortable to talk there than out here."

Both of his companions agreed and the Haradrium formed up to escort the Serpent Guard back into the city. As they did so people leaned out of windows and stared from their doorways to see who these new highly decorated soldiers were and what they were doing inside Jaffa. Harry and Alatar rode at the head with the captain, who introduced himself as Malak, discussing the state of things in Harad and rumours that were coming up from the South and Umbar that the Dark Lord was preparing a massive strike against Gondor and her allies.

As they entered the market square Harry saw that Sharpur and his bodyguard stood at the steps of the palace, his bodyguards ready to throw themselves at the newcomers should they prove to be a threat. Josephine was also standing there near the foot of the temple with her cousin, both of their eyes carefully scanning the situation.

Harry dismounted from his horse in front of Sharpur and he could vaguely see Esus in the background which was strange as he was supposed to be shipping off to return to Mordor soon. Messages had come from Minas Morgul confirming that they knew that Esus was still alive and were demanding his presence in the City of Sorcery immediately. Needless to say both Harry and Sharpur were secretly very glad over the news although for different reasons; Sharpur was glad to see the back of a political opponent whilst Harry was glad because things were being to get a bit strained between the two of them. Esus was unhappy to see Harry betrothed to a Black Númenórean whilst their political differences were also beginning to become more and more apparent, whilst only served to weaken an already weak friendship.

"My fellow council members," Harry said quietly, "allow me to introduce Malak, captain of the Serpent Guard who has been sent from Umbar to help oversee the revival of the temple as well as to ensure the settlement of our new priests."

Harry chose to mention nothing about their purpose as his bodyguards, mainly because they would already have worked that out and because it would appear hostile to highlight the fact that he now a unit of highly trained men under his command. After a round of introductions Harry offered to show Malak, the guardsmen and the new priests around the temple, his quarters and the whole temple complex so that it would be easier for them to guard it. As Harry made his way across the square to the temple he was met by Josephine.

"Serpent Guard," Josephine breathed in astonishment.

Harry nodded, "now my personal guard, and I suppose yours since your my betrothed."

Josephine flinched at his clipped tone, "we need to speak, can I met you this evening?"

"I suppose," Harry sighed, "I have training with Alatar around dusk so come a couple of hours after that and then we can have a talk. Now if you excuse me I need to show the Guard around."

*********The Traveller*********

Harry sat playing with his serpent staff in the courtyard behind the temple. Alatar had asked him to be here after supper and so that was why he was sitting there one of the tables, freezing anything that moved with his freezing spell.

"Ah good you hear on time," Alatar said when he arrived, though he was accompanied by the captain of Harry's serpent guard. "Malak here has agreed to teach you how to use a sword."

Harry nodded at Malak before turning back to Alatar, "there was one thing I wanted to ask you about yesterday's lesson."

"Ask away," Alatar said.

"You said that if you truly believe in a god then they will grant you some powers," Harry asked, "then can you have like hundreds of gods, if you worship all of them will they all give you powers?"

Alatar shook his head, "I wish it was as simple as that," he said, "but in gods are like humans in many ways with their emotions, you worship too many gods and they get jealous of the attention you pay to others and so refuse to continue allowing you to use their powers."

"So you should only worship three or four at most?" Harry clarified.

"Again it is not that simple," Alatar smiled, "a god will only grant you the ability to use their magic if they believe that your objectives correspond with their own, otherwise it wouldn't be in their interest. Sometimes you even have gods granting their abilities to people who don't worship them but are doing something that the god or goddess wishes to see succeed. Is that everything?"

"Yes thank you," Harry said before turning to Malak, "shall we begin?"

The captain bowed low at the waist and held out a training sword to Harry. It was wooden, on the outside at least because it was a lot heavier than it should be so Harry imagined that it had been weighted so that it would be closer to the actual weight of a real sword.

"I will teach you the style of the serpent, milord," Malak said checking the weighting on his own practise sword, "it is the style that all the Serpent Guard are taught to use, it is not the hacking and smashing of the armoured man nor is it the graceful dance of the water dance, rather it is as the serpent, quick jabs and strikes before withdrawing to a safe distance."

Harry nodded and held his sword in one hand as he had seen men do in the films but Malak immediately came over and changed his grip, posture and the way he held the blade. He then began to show Harry the various different types of attacks and defences that could be used to block or deflect an opponent's weapon. Malak was right this was not just hacking and slashing at your opponent, it was more of jabs, lunges and an art of balance.

Malak's methods of teaching involved him teaching Harry then showing him how to apply what he had just been taught in the fight before finally making a mock fight with Harry. The wizard never got anywhere near touching him as the swordsman could easily avoid any of the desperate strikes that Harry threw before immediately following them with a barrage of his own. Another of his ideals that he tried to implant upon Harry was that a man was never defeated until he was dead and even then you had best keep an eye on him. The way he taught this to Harry was that even when Harry had sustained one hit and was panting, out of breath on the floor Malak kept the fight going with the same intensity, raining down blows upon Harry even as he lay winded on the ground.

"I am going to be teaching you every morning," Malak said, after a particularly bruising spar, "from when Alatar wakes you until your breakfast and then for an hour in the evening. Should I decide you need to do more, you shall do it and Alatar will accommodate that within your magical training. Now we go again."

Harry got to his feet once again and picked up the sword which felt like lead in his hands. Malak came quickly, a wide sweeping blow at Harry's head which he ducked at the same time as the master swordsman lashed out with his foot at Harry's knee, causing it to buckle. Alatar's reversed stroke caught the young wizard with a stinging blow on the arm and Harry swung desperately at his opponent to try and force him to retreat but Malak just ducked under the slow swinging sword and swung his own.

Harry tried desperately to block the blow but Malak moved too quickly for him, and through the opening in the side tapped his sword into Harry's stomach. Quick as the impact was before the Serpent Guard captain removed his sword it still knocked the wind out of him.

Meanwhile Harry braced himself for the impact of the second blow which winded as he was he would never be able to defend against. This was where Malak maintained the fercocity of his attack to remind Harry that you have never won until an opponent is dead and buried. Therefore he was surprised after a couple of seconds when it didn't come and he looked up to see Malak had withdrawn and had sketched a quick bow at someone behind Harry.

Getting to his feet Harry turned and saw Josephine standing there looking very uncomfortable. Malak made a suitable excuse and disappear away somewhere leaving the two of them standing there in the courtyard.

"I need you to teach me," Josephine said simply.

"Why's that?" Harry asked.

Josephine's eyes blazed, "because one day I am going to find Murad and then I am going to kill him for what he did to be, for how he used me. You might be using me, but you do it openly and to save your people, he was trying to trick me into loving him and all he was after was not mine but my family's."

Harry couldn't help but remember the saying 'hell have no fury like a woman scorned'. He had not planned for this to happen but in a way he was glad it had, for instead of just planting a seed of doubt in her mind and making her more compliant, now she was still that fiery predator that Harry admitted he found attractive but now she was raging against someone else rather than him and it was quite nice.

"I apologise for my behaviour yesterday," Harry said, "it was uncalled for and I spoke without thinking about what I was saying. So for that I must apologise."

"You crushed my dreams," Josephine said distantly, "I was going to marry him, our families would join and together we would rule Akmunsa, passing it on to our children who would then pass it on to theirs."

Harry pitied her, "I'm sorry, crushed dreams are never an easy thing to bear."

"But I must thank you for it," Josephine continued as if she had not heard him, looking into her eyes, "for without you telling me I fear my dream would have been destroyed before I could escape the prison I had put myself, that would have crushed not just my dreams but me as well."

Harry smiled, "well I sorry that your children will never rule Akmunsa."

"Jaffa will do just as well," she said shyly.

Harry was caught totally off guard and had a mini coughing fit as he spluttered in surprise. Not only was she acknowledging the fact that she and Harry were betrothed and there was nothing she could do about it but she also now seemed to be accepting the fact. And then she had mentioned children, Harry shuddered, wondering whether or not he would make a good father.

"So you accept what is going to happen?" Harry asked.

Josephine shrugged, "there is doing I can do about it, I see that now. Besides with you I know what I am getting, I know how you are using me and I can learn so much from you. It is better than whatever my father would have in store for me should I refuse him."

"And will you swear the oath?" Harry asked to make sure.

Josephine smiled sweetly, "of course, why would I not, my dear betrothed?"

Harry placed his wand down on the table and placed Josephine's slim hand over it.

"Right now repeat after me," Harry said gently, "I, Josephine, do hereby swear to keep all the teachings given to me by Harry James Potter secret to the best of my abilities and will in no way try to pass them on to any without his permission."

Josephine nodded, "I, Josephine, do hereby swear to keep all the teachings and secrets given to me by Harry James Potter secret to the best of my abilities and will in no way try to pass them on to any without his permission."

There were no sparks or anything like Harry had been told would happen, but in a way Harry was not totally surprised. Perhaps such oaths were tied only to Harry's type of magic and so as Josephine did not have the same type of magic core then such oaths would not be binding. Not that she needed to know that, the oath would work because she would still not tell anyone for fear of losing her magic and so Harry's secrets were safe until such a time as Josephine worked out its limits. Hopefully by that point though Harry could have come up with another way of keeping them secret.

"Is that it done?" Josephine asked slightly disappointed.

Harry nodded, "yes that is it done."

He had been surprised by the way that Josephine had added to the oath that he had given her to recite, the promise to keep his secrets was either a show of trust or a peace offerings, either of which Harry would accept.

"One thing though," Josephine smiled, "if I am going to marry you, you better work harder with your swordplay I have no wish to become a widow so early on it life, it does limit one's opportunities."

Harry just groaned.

It was at that time he realised how late and dark it was, his training had started just after supper and had gone on for hours. Quickly tidying away the majority of his equipment that was lying around the place Harry turned to Josephine, who was standing hugging her cloak to her as the temperature dropped dramatically as is normal in such climates.

"Would you permit me to escort you to your residence?" Harry said in mock over politeness.

Josephine giggled and extended her hand out to Harry who took it and lead her down the back avenue that led onto the street in which her own quarters were located. As they walked down that dark narrow street Harry started to tell Josephine about some of the magic that he was going to try and teach her.

Not surprisingly she was not that interested in either potions or herbology, such things could be done by the Black Númenóreans and even then were seen as the work of the poor and unskilled magician. Harry's tales of transfiguration and charms however totally fascinated her, because for the most part there was no such equivalent in the magic of Middle Earth. Not even Alatar and his fellow Istari could turn something in something else, or indeed turn someone into a different animal, much as they liked to pretend they could for their own amusement.

Equally she was interested in some of the more obscure and darker regions of magic that Harry had mentioned. He freely admitted to her that he was probably one of the worst people to talk to about an interest in the Dark Arts because he knew so little of them but what little he did know she listen to. The Mind Arts of Occlumency and Legilimency were other types of magic that were mostly unknown in Middle Earth and while there were rumours of shapeshifters who lived to the very far north there was certainly nothing about Animagi in Harad.

Harry didn't know who it was who screamed as the knife entered his body. He certainly knew it was him who moaned when another enter his side. The night air around him became tainted with the smell of blood and Harry had to fight to remain upright. There was nothing he could do, hands had already ripped his staff and his wand away from him and once again a knife blade entered his back.

He could see vaguely there were a group of them, around five or six, that they were holding Josephine back and that two more of them were approaching him with drawn blades. The desert moon came out from behind a cloud and allowed Harry to see the faces of his attackers clearly for the first time. The pieces of cloth they had wrapped around their faces did nothing to find their features. Both of the faces coming at him Harry recognised, Karlon and Esus. His friend and his political enemy had united to bring him down. The act reminded him so much of Julius Ceasar that he was unable to prevent himself from quoting a line from that famous play.

"You too, Esus?"

* * *

**AN: Ironic how my shortest chapters seem to make the most ground plotwise. Next chapter is going to be big, in size and content hopefully but I hope in this chapter that I have clarified that plothole/mistake about the powers from gods I made in the last chapter. Sorry about that.**

**Hope you enjoy**

**T Horn**


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Nice for the most important chapter so far to land on such a round number as ten. Some of the topics discussed in this chapter are a little bit confusing, mainly because Harry knows only half of what is going on. So before I get any reviews telling me that it doesn't make sense, yes I know that. **

**Oh yeah I ought to warn you there will be a little bit of gore at the beginning of the chapter.**

* * *

Chapter 10

_Harry awoke, lying on a hard stone floor with his blood running from his wounds. The stone on which he was lying was pitch black and he seemed to be lying in some sort of black mist or smoke. He pulled himself to his feet, surprised at not feeling any pain from his wounds. Harry brought his hand to each one in turn and saw that they were mortal wounds, they would probably kill him._

"_Yes they will," a voice hissed from behind Harry._

_He span around and saw a figure standing there. It had the general shape of that of a man but the only feature that Harry could make out through the darkness was his red eyes that seemed to glow with a luminosity that put Harry on edge._

"_I have been watching you, young wizard," the thing continued with a quiet even tone, "you are dying and I can save you."_

_All of a sudden Harry felt the pain return to him, the feeling of the knives twisting in his stomach, the feeling of his lung being punctured and the pain as hard steel with thrust through his kidneys. Unable to keep to his feet Harry fell to his knees before this mysterious stranger and he could feel the icy chill of something creeping up his back as the blood continued to leak from his body._

"_Save me," Harry croaked, "please help me!"_

_The shapeless being smiled predatorily, "oh I intend to, but before I do I need you to do something special for me, could you do that?"_

"_What?" Harry gritted his teeth against the pain, his life slowly slipping away from him._

"_I need you to swear an oath to me," the figure said, "an oath by which you swear to do whatever I command, to be a servant to my will and in return I shall allow you to live."_

_Harry panted, "who are you? Are you some servant of Sauron or Morgoth?"_

_The being chuckled cruelly, "no they are my servants. It was I who planned the seeds in Melkor's mind that would see him become Morgoth, I helped him corrupt Sauron into his service even as now I corrupt others to aid him in his fight."_

"_Are you a god?" Harry asked, fearing the answer._

"_A god," the figure laughed boomingly, "I am no mere god, a being whose power is limited to a single world, I have power through all the worlds. I am greater than a god can ever be, I am one of the Beings of Creation."_

"_I am the Darkness, the Demon Prince, oh I have so many names little wizard," the shape laughed, "some called me the Corruptor, others the Enemy, by a few I am known as Chaos and, although I share it with another, I have been given the ultimate accolade of Evil Incarnate. I have power beyond anything you could ever imagine and I could save you."_

_Revenge, Harry thought, if he accepted this offer he could get his revenge on those who had put him this position, those who had thrust their knifes into his back. Whilst a lifetime of service might be a price that he would regret paying, it was better to live than die. Had that not been his decision when he had first arrived in Middle Earth, in his taking up with the service of Sauron. But that was different, a voice in his head reasoned, that was Sauron and no oath was demand. This is the ultimate evil, to be in service would be thousand times worse than being in the service of either Sauron or Voldemort, and there was an oath with no escape._

"_If you are the ultimate evil," Harry said, "will not the ultimate good stop you and help me?"_

"_Do you see him?" the demon prince smiled cruelly, "come out, come out oh ultimate good. He's not here, because he does not exist. There are only two types of evil, Order and Chaos, and neither of us have time for mankind and its petty concerns."_

_As the demon prince spoke Harry felt strength return to him, his limbs no longer felt as if his limbs were made of lead and he could feel his wounds slowly began to clear up and knit themselves back together. Harry knew the effect and feeling of a healing charm when he felt one and he began to laugh, the Enemy having no control over him without the threat of imminent death. _

"_Why do you laugh, mortal?" it demanded._

_Then it noticed the way Harry's wounds were healing and he began to smile cruelly. Reaching out a gloved hand he began to wave it in Harry's direction._

"_So your friends are trying to heal you," he said, "well we cannot be having that, can't we?"_

_As of a sudden he clenched his hand into a fist and immediately the magic holding Harry's wounds together was shattered and the wounds reopened, blood pouring out of them as before. Tendrils of black magic began to creep from his glove into Harry's wounds and they soon began to colour, the veins turning black as if he had been poisoned and all of a sudden Harry found it hard to breath._

"_You will submit!" it ordered, "you shall submit to my will!"_

_Harry was on the edge of breaking and swearing the oath, the pain he was now experiencing was worse than anything he had ever felt at all as it made Voldemort's cruciatus curse seem like a poke with a stick in comparison. But something changed._

_A blue light, shaped in the form of a swirling ball, appeared in front of him and began to infuse itself into Harry's wounds. Immediately it started to counteract the poison within Harry's blood, the blackness disappearing from his veins and the wounds closing after it. Meanwhile Harry's opponent only stared at the blue light with greed and fear, recognising it and desiring it but at the same time fearing it for what it was and the power that it wielded. _

"_Now I am more interested in you, young wizard, if it feels you are worth his time!" the Corruptor said in awe. "We shall meet again, and count on it that you will bend the knee."_

_Harry felt himself began to be pulled from where he was and he embraced the feeling, wishing nothing more than to be away from this place yet as he did so he heard something in his voice, a warning and he knew immediately where it came from._

"_Beware, young wizard," a voice from within the blue orb said, "for total light is as blinding as pitch blackness. There must always be a balance!"_

* * *

Harry was on his knees. Josephine was screaming. Blood was pouring from his wounds. He was dying. Yet he had never felt more alive.

Karlon stood over him, his knife raised for the killing blow but Harry did nothing, he could do nothing and he didn't know if he was supposed to do. It did not matter though for a spear came from behind Karlon and was thrust through the back of his head, its bloodied point erupting from between his teeth. Esus favoured little better, he was cut down by swords and the fighting continued but Harry saw nothing. He saw a flicker of blue robes come before him and couldn't help but he reminded of that blue orb of perfection.

"There must always be balance!" he murmured.

The figure in blue stopped and stared, continuing to stare as he was pushed out of the way and figures covered in gold surrounded Harry. Harry felt alive.

*********The Traveller************

His eyes snapped open and immediately closed again as the bright light blinded him. He groaned and sat up, wincing as pain shot up from his stomach. Harry opened his eyes, slowly this time and took in his surroundings. He was back in his room, bandages had been wrapped around his wounds and he was dressed in his finest clothes, with his staff, wand and serpent rod lain across his chest.

Puzzled he got to his feet and winced once more, before making his way over to the door, wand and staff in hand. From there Harry carefully made his way down the stairs and opted to go through to the dining room but stopped when he heard loud raised voices coming from the open door and the room beyond.

"My lord," a voice that Harry remembered as Malak's shouted, followed by the sound of something being banged against a hard wooden surface, "is lying upstairs on his bed, dead, and you are asking me to do nothing about it?"

"The situation demands that you do nothing," a man Harry recognised from the council said, "as much as we would like to move against Sharpur and what is left from Esus' faction, we can't. Without Lord Harry we don't have the proof we need, nor the backing. We must be quiet and plan!"

Malak looked frustrated, "what do you say Alatar? Surely you cannot agree with this idiot? What is your advice?"

"My advice?" the blue wizard said, sounding amused, "my advice would be that you ask the man you are supposed to be revenging, who is very much alive and outside the door."

Harry took a deep breath and walked through the door. The room was crowded and filled with people that Harry recognised; Alatar, Malak and his subordinates, several of the council members with whom Harry had the best relationship, Josephine and Thain and most of the priesthood that Malak had brought with him. They were all looking at him with amazement and utter astonishment.

Suddenly Malak dropped on his knees and placed his forehead against the floor, to be followed seconds later by the members of Serpent Guard, the priests and the members of the Council. Josephine delicately got down on her knees and knelt there with her head bowed, Thain copying. Soon Harry and Alatar were the only two people left standing in the room and Harry could not resist cheekily raising his eyebrow at his mentor.

"If you think I am going to start bowing and scraping to you," the elderly wizard huffed, "then you have another think coming."

Harry smiled, "glad to see you're the same old sentimental fool of a mentor as ever, Alatar."

Alatar chuckled and Harry gestured for everyone to stand, feeling extremely uncomfortable with the way they were acting.

"If it pleases you my lord," Malak asked humbly, "might I be permitted to ask how you managed to survive your wounds?"

"I have had worse," Harry said dismissively.

Malak looked incredulous, "worse than two lungs punctured in several places, several cracked and broken ribs, knife wounds to the stomach, both kidneys and your liver. How many scraps have you been in?"

"That bad?" Harry asked surprised, "maybe I am just lucky."

"I wish I was that bloody lucky," Malak murmured, "my apologies my lord for my impertinent question."

Harry glared at him.

"I swear if a single one of you changes the way you act around me because I supposed resurrected myself from the dead," Harry threatened menacingly, "then I shall turn them into a bright pink mouse and let my snakes loose on him."

Everyone paled, every except for Alatar who chuckled, "you know I think we might be able to make an Istari out of you after all."

Now Harry had to decide what he was going to do next. The Sun looked as if it had only risen an hour or so ago and that would have made it around eight hours since he had been attacked. No doubt rumours were already flooding around the town, with most of the town's population being aware of the attack as well as having a good idea about who had done it.

"What is the chance that we would be able to keep this hidden?" Harry asked, not getting too hopefully.

One of the priests smiled apologetically, "no chance of that I'm afraid milord, many people heard the shouts and saw your body being taken inside. Everyone is certain you are dead."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, "who have you said did it?"

"Nobody as yet," Malak grunted, "the bodies of your attackers are outside in the courtyard, we managed to get them away before people could see them. Of course people are certain that Sharpur was responsible just too afraid to say it."

"Well, let's give them the courage," Harry said quietly, "Malak form your men up in the courtyard and cut the heads of my attackers and put them in a sack. Alatar can you go get someone to find out where Sharpur is at this exact moment and as you go out put mourning strips up around the temple and in public. I want to be ready to move in ten minutes!"

Everyone nodded and started bustling around doing the jobs that Harry had assigned to them. As he watched them he felt someone approach him and turning he saw Josephine standing there, looking like she had not slept all night.

"You're alive," Josephine stated.

Harry smiled, "yeah, I can kind of see that though please feel free to inform me should the situation change."

Josephine smirked, "I will make sure I do that." She hesitated for a moment, "for what it is worth, I am glad you are still alive. Things were getting rather terrified after everyone thought you died."

"That means a lot to be," Harry said calmly, "thank you."

"What are you planning?" she asked.

Harry looked out of the window, "I am going to get Sharpur and I am going to nail that bastard to a cross. The hanging out of mourning strips with make him certain that I am dead, which will make him more confident, more prone to mistakes. Soon I will go with my guards and arrest him for arranging my assassination, there is little enough proof except the fact that his son was involved but everyone knows he did and so I should be able to get him."

"Be careful," she warned, "I know men like him, do not underestimate them!"

"There is no fear of that happening," Harry said wryly.

*********The Traveller************

It took a little longer than Harry had hoped for but twenty minutes later they were prepared to leave. Harry stood in the centre of the guards, a hood over his head, whilst everyone who surrounded him were in their full regalia. Harry gave the motion and the doors of the temple were opened and out they marched.

The market place had a number of people in it, people who had come when they heard rumours of Harry's assassination. The appearance of twenty armed guards marching in unison in the direction of the palace, accompanied by priests and some of the tribe's elders, attracted more attention and people watched their progress with interest.

Sharpur was standing near the gates of the palace as Alatar had told Harry he was, deep in discussion with members of the Council of the Nobility. The procession marched right up to the group and immediately the atmosphere around them became tense and hostile as the tribe members saw a confrontation between the two groups which had been brewing for ages.

"Lord Sharpur," Malak said.

Sharpur nodded, probably having an idea about what was about to happen, "yes, captain?"

"You are under arrest for the murder and assassination of Lord Harry Potter, the Serpent Lord," Malak said, "you will come with us or we will take you."

Sharpur's bodyguards moved forwards to put themselves between Sharpur and Malak and his guards, however their master just waved them off. Meanwhile he had put a confused expression on his face.

"My dear captain," he said, "I can assure you I had absolutely nothing to do with your master's death, indeed the loss of such a great man deeply grieves me. At the time of his death I was dining with my friends on the Council, as they could tell you."

Sure enough several of the council members nodded, and Malak frowned slightly. Harry was not too worried, so what if he had an alibi as justice rarely ruled in Jaffa just those who had power and wealth and whilst Harry might not have the latter he did have plenty of the former.

"Do you deny that you played any part in arranging the assassination attempt?" Malak asked to clarify.

"Of course," Sharpur replied, barely batting his eyebrow as he lied quite convincing, "I hope you managed to get all of the killers?"

"We got all of them!" Malak smiled grimly, "all of them, including your son!"

There was a slight flicker in Sharpur's eye, just enough for Harry to notice and once again Harry was impressed with the control the other man had over his emotions, he had just been told that his son was dead and that was. No doubt he had hoped that his son had escaped and was hiding somewhere but he would have known that that was only wishful thinking. The news that Sharpur's son had been involved in the assassination attempt spread through the crowd like wildfire and all of a sudden things looked to be leaning a little more towards their way.

"I have noticed that my son, Karlon, is missing," Sharpur said, "but I can assure you that he would have played no part in the assassination, they were good friends after all Karlon being one of the men that brought the Serpent Lord to our camp."

Malak nodded and picked up the slight signal that Harry was giving him, taking the sack of one of his men and emptying it at Sharpur's feet. The heads of the attackers rolled out onto the floor and all of a sudden the tension in the square heightened as the lord took in the sight of his son's head lying on the ground amongst others.

"You see your son's head there along with the shaman, Esus', the three of you were seen conferring yesterday afternoon together!" Malak said, if Sharpur was allowed to lie why should they not to the same.

"How do you know my son played any part in the attack," Sharpur challenged, "for all you know he could have been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, or even was there to help the Serpent Lord, his friend. You should be the ones arrested and tried for the murder of my son, an innocent man!"

Josephine's eyes took a look of fury, "I was there when Lord Harry was attacked, I saw your son and Esus working together to murder him. There is no doubt that your son was there and he was there on your orders!"

"Are we to believe a word of Númenórean now?" Sharpur sneered at Josephine, "your kind aren't welcome here. Why should we, the last free city in Harad, take the word of one of them as we remember what they did to our city last time they tried to divide us as they are doing again. Indeed if anyone was guilty of killing Lord Harry it would be her, the Númenórean witch, trying to cause Haradrium to turn against Haradrium so they can conquer us like they did last time."

There were murmurs of agreement from the crowd, clearly the old prejudices against Black Númenóreans were still rife among the Haradrium. Seeing Josephine's expression turning further to anger Harry stepped forward, knowing that her anger would not help the situation.

"Oh my lord Sharpur," Harry said throwing back his hood, "I can assure you that your son was one of the men who stabbed me!"

Whatever Sharpur had been expecting this was clearly not it, as his face froze in astonishment and horror. He looked as if he had seen a ghost and Harry was certain that he had been absolutely certain that Harry was well and truly dead.

"I say that Lord Sharpur and the shaman Esus conspired with each other against me," Harry said in a loud voice addressing the people, "and together they arranged to have me murdered. It was only through the will of the gods that I survived and even now they demand justice, who are we to deny the demands of the gods?"

Superstition, Harry savoured the taste of it on his mouth, people had seen his body and even if they hadn't they had talked to people who had. They would have heard of or seen his body and the wounds that no mortal man should rightfully survive. They would believe him to be blest by the gods.

"The gods will it!" one of the priests said and all around people were taking up the cry. "The gods will it! They will it!"

Sharpur panicked, and looking at his bodyguards he shouted, "get them!"

It was the biggest mistake that he could make, not only could Harry and his companions easily overpower him but also all it did was serve to solidify the idea in the mind of the people that Sharpur wanted Harry dead and so must have been the one behind the assassination attempt.

Before the Serpent Guard could engage the charging bodyguards, Alatar stepped out of the group. The oncoming men paused for a moment, they knew of the power that was behind the visage of the old man and knew that he would take them out in a matter of seconds. Nevertheless their duty was to their lord and so they continued the charge.

Alatar waved his staff as if he were merely brushing the floor and the men were thrown backwards against the walls as if a giant broom had swept them all away. They were thrown into buildings so hard that the mud bricks crumbled and buildings toppled on them or else their skulls were unable to cope with the impact.

The elderly Istari finished with a decorate twirl of his stuff, leaving it tucked under his arm. Harry stared at him, admittedly impressed as his mentor had made throwing men high into the air and fifty foot across the ground look so easy.

"Well what do you say?" Harry asked Sharpur quietly.

The man's face turned resigned, he knew that he was going to die but wanted to go down fighting, and so he drew his sword and charged at Harry. He had not gone two metres when Malak met him, his sword slipping between the other man's ribs and into his heart. The dying man clutched at his wound for a couple of seconds before slipping to his knees, trying desperately to hold his blood in as it seeped out from between his fingers.

The small bag that he had been holding dropped to the floor and a circlet of gold rolled out from within it. It was small, little more than a band of gold with a couple of precious stones and a couple of ridges. Harry and everyone else who stood in that square knew what it was and were wondering why Sharpur had been carrying it. The crown rolled on its side slowly and tipped gently at the top of the steps before finally toppling over.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

The ring of gold bounced down the steps and rolled to a halt at Harry's feet. Slowly he bent down and picked it up, holding it up so the light caught off it. In his head Harry wondered why Sharpur had been carrying it with him, had Harry's death been the last thing he had needed in order to have himself proclaimed king. Silence reigned over the market place before one of the council members stepped forward.

"It is clear that the gods favour you," he said softly, "perhaps they have decided to bestow one more honour upon you."

And then slowly he dropped to his knee, suddenly followed by waves and waves as every man and woman there knelt. This time even Alatar lowered himself solemnly onto his knees, and this left Harry the only man standing. Disbelieving he raised the crown into the air and slowly lowered in down on his head.

"The King of Jaffa!" the cry went up, "The King, The King of Jaffa!"

Round and round the marketplace the cry went and those who were not already there were drawn to the noise and soon their cries were added to the rising tumult. Harry looked over the crowd of people, feeling lost and frightened. He had known that it would eventually have to happen, he just was sure if he was ready for it.

******The Traveller********

Harry knelt deep in prayer in front of the altar in the temple. His Serpent Guard were formed up around the room and Malak had ordered the temple shut to anyone who he didn't know and trust, he was not going to fail Harry again. He knelt there praying to any god who could hear him, any god who could help.

It had been an hour since Harry had been named as a king, and in moments his life was changed. He was frightened terrified even, there was just so many things that he had deal with and think about; his encounter with the Darkness, his rise to royalty, Sauron and a whole variety of issues surrounding his thousands of new duties and privileges.

Sauron was a pressing concern, no doubt when word reached Umbar about a change in government of the city they would send a message demanding that Harry swear fealty to the Great Council there. Such fealty could also be translated as swearing himself to Mordor and in the light of what had happened over the last couple of days he was not sure he wanted to have anything to do with Sauron. Indeed opposing him sounded like the only really option, for with Sauron as well every Dark Lord he imagined it was either for him or against him, something that ruled out neutrality. Nevertheless any opposition to Mordor would have to be done in secret for not only was Jaffa in the centre of Harad, a region very much under Sauron's sway, but also there were many in Jaffa who supported him. Indeed Harry imagined if everyone was allowed to side with who they wished, it would only be Harry and Alatar siding against the Dark Lord.

His up and coming coronation would cause problems, for not only would Harry have to make decisions regarding matters such as service to Mordor, he would also have to deal with matters such as irrigation for the crops, food stocks for winter and a shortage of cloth all of which had previously been up to the Councils to deal with. Previously Harry was responsible for just a small about of religious concerns, now everything was his responsibility. Sure he could put the matters back under the control of the councils but when there was a bad harvest, famine and a clothes shortage who would the people blame; not the councils but their king.

Finally there was the issue that was taking up the majority of Harry's prayer, the Darkness. Harry could not help but think that Alatar knew about what Harry had just learnt, that that was part of his great secret and Harry could not help but feel slightly angry at his mentor for not warning him. Some of his anger was directed at himself as he almost sold himself into a lifetime of servitude just to save his own skin, he had been what he had hated in Voldemort; a man who was selfishly killing others so that he could stay alive. He had little doubt that Esus and Sharpur had been corrupted by the Corrupter, their attack on Harry gave their master the leverage over Harry that he would have needed to get Harry to swear allegiance had it not been for the ball of light which healed Harry's wounds.

He would have to be more careful in future, trust people a lot less for fear that they might be corrupted into betraying him, although Alatar was a possible exception as he would have known of the Corrupter and Harry imagined that he would have taken some measures to ensure that he was protected against him. Talking of Alatar Harry needed to find and have a talk with him, he needed to know that his mentor would remain in Jaffa to help and advise Harry.

"Milord!" Malak whispered respectfully, "we need to go now!"

"Go," Harry asked puzzled, "go where?"

Malak looked surprised, "your coronation, you have been a prayer for four hours now and it is time."

Harry took in the feeling of numbness in his knees and the pins and needles that was coming up from his toes. Shaking his head he got unsteadily to his feet, a horrible taste of bile growing in his throat as he began to experience the first signs of sickness in his stomach. Ruthlessly quashing all nervousness Harry reminded himself for what he was doing this, for his people.

Red silk robes were laid over his head and a breastplate of gold was fastened to his chest, while another of the servants placed a helmet in his hand. It was a magnificent piece of armour, with a spiked top, covered in gold leaf and with a nose guard and chainmail that hung from the back to protect the back of the wearer's neck. Inlaid on it were precious stones, all coming together to draw the eye.

"We are sorry, your eminence," one of the servants said, "it is the only part of the old ceremonial armour that remained, the rest was taken to Akmunsa

Harry turned to Malak who was standing off to the side, "remind me to ask Thain to ask his uncle whether or not it would be possible for the armour and other objects that were looted from Jaffa to be returned."

"Isn't that a bit optimistic?" the captain of Harry's guard asked.

Harry shrugged, "probably but it wouldn't hurt to ask even if the answer is in the negative."

Finally the servants brought forward Harry's new ceremonial cloak, bright red with a desert wolf sitting inside a shield, the symbol of Jaffa, embroidered onto its back. It was fastened around Harry's neck with a broach which had been provided by Josephine which was shaped as a snake with jewels for its eyes which was eating its own tail. The servants once they had finished stood back and brought forward a huge polished shield, which had been shined to such a level that Harry could see his reflection in it.

"You look regal," Malak complimented gruffly.

Harry had to agree, there was sometime imposing about his new attire with all its gold and blood red cloth. Before despite the way he had aged over the last couple of weeks he still looked like a boy, no more than seventeen, but now he looked a man. His face seemed nobler and Harry was glad that he had allowed himself to be shaved as he looked and felt a lot less rugged and dirty.

"There is something missing," his mentor's voice said from behind him.

Harry turned and saw Alatar standing there with a scabbard in his hand. The older wizard came closer and held out the hilt towards Harry, who reached out and curled his fingers around the grip before drawing the blade. It was beautiful, not the normal dull grey of iron or even the slight shine of steel but was the same magnificent sky blue metal that adorned Harry's staff.

"Star iron," Alatar said, "as hard as iron, but without its brittleness. Even the finest dwarvish steel is nothing in comparison to a mediocrely forged sword of this type and this sword is far from mediocre. It was Pallando's, and brother to my own, as he was my brother, but now it is yours."

Harry lifted the sword, his sword, marvelling at the magnificent casting and the perfect balance, it really did feel just like an extension of his arm. Its grip was made out of a skin that Harry did not recognise, one which seemed to not allow for his hand to slip even the slightest whilst at the same time being incredibly comfortable to hold.

"It is a valuable gift," Harry said humbled, "I shall try my hardest to make myself worthy of bearing such a beautiful blade."

Alatar shook his head sadly, "you are already worth, you just won't accept that fact."

Harry nodded, his throat welling up slightly. This was it, he was going to be crowned a king, and he was terrified.

"Alatar," Harry said, "I'm not sure about this, I'm not sure whether it is going to work."

"It is the will of the gods," Malak said unconcerned from next to the old wizard, "why would they allow you to survive if it was not? It is your divine right to be king, just as it is our god given duty to serve you."

There was a banging on the door of the temple, and when it was opened Harry could hear the murmurings of whispers. Finally it was opened and a man slipped in.

"They are ready, Your Grace!" the man, Harry's new Master of Ceremonies, said.

Harry froze, his face getting paler and paler until he was sure that he was going to be sick. Nothing he had gone through had been anything on this feeling he had now, the Triwizard Tasks had all been tempered by the adrenaline that was running through his body but now there was no adrenaline there was only fear.

"The gods will it," Alatar said quietly at his side, "and so do the people, do it for their sake."

The people, the gods, his friends, it seems that Harry never did anything for himself yet perhaps this was to be his chance. The people and the gods might wish it, but to be a good king Harry knew that he must wish it as well.

"I will be king," Harry said, arguing more to convince himself than those standing with him, "that I swear on no god but upon myself, I will be a good king."

"Yes, you will!" Alatar said, knowing what he was trying to do. "I hope for all our sakes that you will!"

Convinced, Harry attached the scabbard bearing his new sword onto his waist and the procession formed up some ahead of him and others behind. The huge doors to the temple were opened and out they marched.

* * *

"Milords," a messenger came running, "there is news from Jaffa."

The heads of the families of Akmunsa sat round a table at their latest meeting, but looked up when the man burst through the door.

"Well what is it man?" Murad demanded angrily.

The messenger gulped and regained his breath, "my Lord Jermiah's nephew sends word, the Serpent Lord was assassinated two hours ago by local Haradrium leaders."

Everyone in the room froze and several eyes turned to Jermiah, this had been his plan and he had persuaded the council into agreeing to it but now it had gone wrong and it was clear upon whose head the blame would fall. The family and its head would suffer a serious loss of reputation for this.

"Well it looks like an army is required after all," Murad sounding pleased with himself, "fortunately my men are already ready to go and will be on our way within the hour."

There was a round of talk with most of the Black Numenoreans in the room agreeing, it would look terrible for them should they allow one of their own to be killed by Haradrium without any form of retaliation. Besides there were a number of Akmunsans within Jaffa who would need to be extracted before any harm could befall them.

"Milords," Jermiah said, "I request permission to lead the army, to atone for my failures."

One or two of the members backed him but it was clear that to most he was a dying star, a drowning ship and so most supported Murad and he was given control of the army and told to do what he thought was best. Jermiah was disgraced and he could not bear to look across the table at Murad's gloating face.

* * *

**AN: I am not sure whether or not I will cover the coronation or just skip it. Most of non-understandable bits in this chapter will be resolved next chapter which should be up soon. The reason I included it was to make this fic a little different from the normal crossovers and I hope I succeeded. **

**T Horn**


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: This is a very, very long chapter, my longest one ever and by quite some way at 8,000 words. Tell what you think of the length; prefer longer, less regular (probably fortnightly) updates or the more normal 6,000 words more often (weekly).**

**Some people did suggesting using snakes a lot more than I did but I was wary of doing so, I felt that having command of the snakes would make things too easy for Harry and so the power he has over snakes ****for the time being**** with be purely that he can talk to them as he can to humans rather than they ****have**** to obey his instructions (they will if he can persuade them).**

* * *

Chapter 11

Harry stood high up on the balcony of the palace overlooking the city, his city. The shine of hundreds of lights in the darkness below illuminating all the streets and houses really was a sight to behold, and Harry just stood there drinking it all in. It had been a couple of hours since he had been crowned, the coronation had been so totally unlike anything that Harry had ever gone through in his entire life. Oaths he swore, promises he made and speeches he spoke, all of them seemed to cross his mind in a fraction of a second as his mind had blurred through the entire event, it was only now when he was beginning to remember the details.

"Your Eminence, the wizard Alatar to see you," a servant said nervously from behind him, "he seemed quite insistent."

Harry sighed, there was the peace he so desperately desired gone although he did need to talk to Alatar and now seemed as good an opportunity as any.

"Send him in," Harry ordered.

The Blue Wizard came in and walked over to where Harry stood looking over the city, leaning against the edge of the balcony like his companion was doing. Slowly removing something from one of his pockets he slid it along the stone rail upon which the two of them were leaning, to Harry who picked it up curious. It was a medallion, one with a pin at the back so that it could be used as broach depicted upon it was a set of scales with writing down the side in runes which Harry was unable to read. Harry recognised it as one he had seen Alatar wear on occasion.

"They say 'There must always be balance'" Alatar sat without taking his eyes off the view in front of him, "it is yours now, now that you are one of us!"

"Us?" Harry asked, not quite knowing what Alatar was referring to.

The wizard transfixed Harry with a powerful stare, "you were approached, that night as you lay dying, which one was it?"

"Chaos," Harry sat, beginning to understand now, "he wanted me to swear loyalty to him, but then I was saved by a blue light."

Alatar nodded, "the blue light as you call it is what Pallando and I named the Balance after we were approached, though we were approached by Order. Balance is what originally created the multiverse in all its glory."

The Blue Wizard unrolled a scroll that he had kept up his sleeve, and laid it out on the stone. It was a series of depictions, which looked like they were showing a series of events. The first showed the blue light, Balance as Alatar called it, depicted in a larger form of the orb which had appeared to Harry earlier on that day. The orb in the diagrams was growing larger and larger, until it looked like a bloated blue throbbing bubble. A bubble which then burst, sending millions and millions of tiny flecks of blue light flying all around, flecks which the diagram showed growing into millions and millions of new worlds. A smaller version of the orb had survived the explosion and it was around this orb that the worlds were grouped.

So that was how the worlds had been created, Harry laughed to himself as he realised that he was probably the only person from his world who knew how it was actually created. Realising that the diagrams continued, Harry followed the diagrams as they showed the small bubble beginning to distort until two lumps were straining out from either direction which made it look as if the bubble was pregnant. Finally the bubble burst and two spheres flew out of it, one so bright that it hurt to look and one so corruptive it seemed to seduce Harry's very gaze. The two spheres then flew to different ends of the multiverse and slowly their influence began to spread among the worlds, first those closest to them but slowly they began to creep closer and closer to the centre. Dark tendrils crept out of the Corrupter into the worlds and begun to slowly turned them visibly darker and darker, whilst the light of Order overpowered any of the natural light of the worlds it tried to ensnare. The final picture showed the two of them meeting in the centre and fighting for control of the worlds that were there. Harry set the picture down and stared off into the darkness.

"That we copied off a wall far to the East," Alatar said, "after we were first approached and then saved we researched as much as we could until we heard of a madman who was said to be ravaging about balance, order and chaos so we when to his cave and found this drawn upon the walls."

Harry was sceptical, "you believe the drawings of a madman?"

"How often are the mad the closest to the truth," Alatar pointed out. "Needless to say that the last picture is what this world is currently engaged in a war between the Corruptor and Order."

"The elvish god and his servants are under the influence of Order whilst Morgoth and Sauron have been corrupted by Chaos," Harry clarified, "the war between the two comes because their masters are manipulating them into the fight."

Alatar frowned, "we were never sure about Eru, the elvish god, whether he was neutral or leaning towards Order but certainly his servants the Valar are definitely Order influenced. You were right with the rest though."

"So what do we do about it?" Harry asked, "launch an attack against the Valar like Pallando tried, or seek to destroy Sauron and Melkor. It's going to be hard either way with just the two of us."

"There is not just the two of us," Alatar said mildly, "the badge you hold is a sign of membership to a Council, an order to replicate the Order of Istari and the White Council in service of the Light, the Fraternity of Balancers."

Harry looked down at the medallion, "and how many people are in this Fraternity of yours?"

"Only a couple," Alatar admitted, "apart from you and me there is my fellow Istari, Radagast the Brown, a man who knew of all this before even we did and a couple of people in different realms throughout the world, hell we even have an Uruk of Mordor."

They stopped talking for a couple moment as a servant came in with a pair of glasses filled with strong red wine, and waited until they were sure he had left and was well out of listening range. In the meantime Harry had attached the broach to his chest and was thinking of questions to ask his mentor.

"What is so bad about Order?" Harry asked, "why would we not support him over the Darkness?"

Alatar sighed, "The Lord of Light, as he is also called, tries to create societies of order and total perfection in his worlds. Unfortunate no race, even the elves though they are a race dearer to him than any other on this world, are capable of being truly perfect with the exception of those that he warps from their original state. No human would survive under his rule, they would be hunted for being imperfect and impure. The madman called him the Beloved Tyrant; children that are deformed are killed at birth, any who do wrong would be immediately executed and everyone forced to obey an extremely strict system of laws. Genocide and ethnic cleansing are the hallmarks of Order's inference, as he sets one race against another in the hope they would wipe each other out. He has no mercy, seeing it as a form of imperfect and a will to let imperfection survive."

Alatar fell silent and both of the wizards stood there in silence, sipping their wine and contemplating what they had heard or spoke. Already Harry could see analogies flooding into his head from his home world; Voldemort obvious serving the Corrupter but Harry suspected that Salazar Slytherin and the rest of the pureblood fanatics were influenced by the Lord of Light, at least that was what their tendencies to try and commit genocide indicated, not only that but they wanted a strictly ordered society with purebloods above halfbloods, halfbloods above muggleborns and muggleborns above wizards. What Dumbledore was Harry was not sure although he supposed that the Headmaster could not be a servant of Chaos because of the way he opposed Voldemort. Further afield Hitler had definitely been a servant of the Lord of Light with his Holocaust whilst someone like Genghis Khan or Attila the Hun from history could perhaps be seen as serving Chaos.

"How do you fight against a being so powerful?" Harry asked, shaking his head at the seemingly impossible task.

"Oh they are very powerful," Alatar agreed, "but at the same time they are not. They can have no direct impact on events or the worlds they try and take, all they can do is try and influence and manipulate the minds of those they choose as their servants. And it is so much harder to corrupt or manipulate someone who is watching out for it. Now you are aware of the dangers you are less likely to be tricked into serving them."

Harry was puzzled, "then why keep it a secret? Why not tell everyone?"

"Who would believe me?" Alatar raised his eyebrow, "would you if you had not been approached by the Corrupter and seen it all first hand."

The younger wizard shook his head, no he wouldn't have he would have thought the desert sun or old age had got to Alatar and that the man was starting to go mad.

"I suppose you are right," Harry sighed.

"Oh I am," Alatar smiled, "but there is a young woman outside the door who would very much like to speak to you I'm sure."

Harry sighed and dismissed his mentor with a wave of his hand as the old man beat a hasty retreat. Josephine was so much trouble, Harry did not for one moment believe her little change of heart was entirely genuine, sure she would do longer trust or perhaps even liked Murad but that was not enough to send her into a supposed rage desperate to kill the man. Nor did such hatred mean that she would be any more likely to love or indeed like Harry. No, the change was political as well emotional with Harry now named as King, Josephine would be sure to be trying to set herself up as his queen. The knock sounded on the door and Harry poured himself another glass of wine, already feeling the impact of the strong alcohol upon his senses.

Josephine entered, dressed in the same elegant black gown that she had worn to his coronation and one which showed more of her cleavage that was acceptable in Black Númenórean or Haradrium society.

"Do you really think that you would be able to seduce me?" Harry asked amused.

"Not really," Josephine admitted, in no way sorry for being caught, "but I thought it would be worth the try."

Harry took a sip of wine, a move which Josephine mirrored although as she licked her lips clear of the red liquid it was clear that the attempt at seduction had not finished. Josephine slipped slowly over to his side and allowed her hand to slide down Harry's arms, a move that gave Harry goosebumps.

"So what did you come here for?" Harry asked.

Josephine smiled, "I came to seduce you, my dearest betrothed, for if I remember rightly you and I are to become man and wife, so I thought I ought to give you a taste of what is to come."

This was an attempt to manipulate him, that Harry was sure of but he did quite want to know what she was trying to manipulate him into doing or not doing. He was wary of her, she was a loose cannon whom he had no idea who she was working for. Prior to his attack he might have allowed that to pass and at least for the time being not distrusted her, but now with the revelations that were coming out and with his first true friend in this world being part of an assassination attempt against him Harry realised that there was nobody he could trust apart from himself, and even then he had to be careful.

"So are you going to come in front the night and over here with me?" she suggested.

Josephine took a seat down on the edge of the table just in from the balcony, a move which allowed her slim, delicate leg to slip through a gap in her dress out where it could be seen. Every move she was making seemed to be with the sole purpose of arousing Harry and it was working. Harry shifted uncomfortably until finally when she slipped a grape into her mouth and allowed the juice to spill over her lips he could stand it no more.

Harry moved quickly pinning her against the wall, bringing his lips to meet her ever so soft ones and his hands moved from her wrists to her waist as he continued to kiss her. Josephine was moaning and kissing back hard, her hands moving to the straps of her dress but Harry's hands caught them before they got there, before he moved them to the straps on her shoulder. He fumbled with the strap before pausing to move his mouth down so that he was now sucking on her neck just below her ear. Josephine was moaning delightedly in his ear, and Harry moved his mouth up to her ear.

"Just remember who is in charge here!" Harry whispered.

With that he let go of the girl so that she fell to the floor before walking out of the room, leaving Josephine stuck between a state of fury, arousal and disbelieving.

***********The Traveller*************

It was later that night as Harry lay wearily upon his bed unable to sleep because of the adrenaline and thoughts that were running through his body and his brain respectively that he heard a commotion outside of the door. Moments later it burst open and Harry leapt for his wand ready to curse whoever it was who had just come in. He only just restrained himself when he saw it was a breathless servant.

"Milord, Your Eminence," the man panted, "word has just arrived from our patrols, an army lead by the Lord Murad has just left Akmunsa and will be here within a matter of days."

Harry froze for a moment before cursing wildly, no doubt that Thain had sent word as soon as Harry had been assassinated and then in the excitement of the following day forgotten to send a message telling Lord Jermiah that Harry was still alive. He was halfway down the palace steps to tell the man to send a message immediately when he remembered who the messenger had said was leading it. He turned round to see the servant had followed him.

"Did you say that the army has being led by Murad?" Harry asked.

"Yes, Your Grace."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, "Go rouse as many of the council as possible as well as the Black Númenóreans," Harry ordered, "and have them all meet inside the council chambers within the hour."

(An hour later)

Harry frowned as he waited for Josephine and Thain to arrive, the two of them being the last to appear and already late as every other man who had been summoned had already arrived. A couple moments later they both walked, taking seats around the table and whilst Thain gave Harry a cursory bow his cousin just refused to look at him.

"My lords," Harry began, drawing their attention, "I have already told the majority of you why I have summoned this council but some have yet to hear. News had reached my ears of an army that has departed from Akmunsa bound for Jaffa nearly a thousand strong which should be here within a week."

"Nearly a thousand men?" one of the council members said in astonishment.

Harry nodded, "that is what our scouts report, the majority of them being Haradrium infantry but with a fair number of cavalry and Black Númenórean guards as well as a couple archers."

Many of men in the room were now directly glares at Josephine and Thain who were whispering together frantically, both of them were smart enough to realise that now they were little more than hostages held by enemies rather than the slightly distrusted allies they had been up until now.

"What I want to know," one of the more portly council members said, "is what is the reason for this sudden aggression on the part of the Akmunsans? For whilst we must prepare ourselves for war, we must think if there is anything else we can do to avoid it for it is almost certain that we will not be able to defeat an army that size."

Alatar stood, "I think the reason for the army might be to do with rumours that will no doubt have reached Akmunsa, telling them of the assassination of our king."

Thain paled, "forgive me milords, for this is my error that has led to this. I forgot to send the other message, the army would be coming to avenge you. I shall go and send another message…."

"It is being led by Murad," Harry interrupted glancing at Josephine.

"He'll still listen to the message," Thain said, not quite understanding, "he is still bound by the will of the council and will return to Akmunsa, despite whatever his personal feelings towards you are."

Harry nodded, "probably but I have no wish for him to return to Akmunsa. I have here an opportunity to get rid of one of my greatest opponents in your city and you think I am not going to take it? I can assure you Murad will not be alive within the week."

It was perfect, here was an opportunity to wipe out the main figurehead of Black Numenorean resistance to Harry and weaken Akmunsa with one blow. He was able to cripple their army here than there would be little chance that they would be able to retaliate for some time afterwards.

"Malak," Harry said, "I need you to go to the house our friends here are staying in and remove all the messenger pigeons that are there, in addition assign a guard to each so that they cannot get a message out to warn our enemies."

"You do not trust us?" Josephine asked quietly.

Harry looked her in the eye, "I would be stupid to, if there is an attack from Akmunsa then it means that either your father is in on it, so it would be in your interest to inform of the up and coming surprise they are going to get or your father has fallen out of favour, in which cause this knowledge might be enough for him to trade for his redemption."

Josephine glared at Harry before storming out the council chambers, the door being thrown violently open. Thain followed after her, apologising profusely for her behaviour. As soon as they were out of hearing Harry turned back to his audience and began to plan.

**********The Traveller**********

"Your Majesty," several of his guards were approaching holding a man who was struggling, "we have caught an Akmunsan scout, what would you like us to do with him?"

The man continued to try and fight to release him but Harry ignored him, choosing instead to think of a plan. Memories of the ambush in which he had been captured by the Gondorian rangers had already given him the basic setup of one, but he needed a way to force Murad to take a route that would lead him through a valley of some sort. And the capture of the scout might just have provided him with such a way.

"Imperio!"

The curse took hold of the struggling scout and already Harry could feel that he was compliant to Harry's wishes. Signalling his men to release the Akmunsan Harry knelt down close to him and whispered.

"Tell Murad," Harry ordered, "that the best route is through the Valley of the Kings, that Sharpur and the rest of Jaffa seem unaware of his approach and are still feasting in Jaffa. Is that clear?"

The man nodded and his horse was brought back for him before he was then escorted to the edge of the camp where he was released.

The Valley of the Kings was the perfect location for the battle that Harry was planning to fight. It had several advantages in its favour; one that to get round it an army would have to travel a mile or so in either direction and so in the course of a short battle Harry and his army would be unlikely to be outflanked by the Akmunsans. In addition the gorge walls of the valley were very rocky and almost impossible to climb from the base of the valley, as well as that they were barely a hundred metres apart which meant the whole of the gorge could be covered by archers located high up in the caves and crevices on the cliff.

Three more scouts had been captured and imperiused by Harry, which he thought should be enough to ensure that Murad took the path which Harry wished for him to take. Harry's own scouts had been keeping track of the army on its approach to the valley, there was no chance that Harry was going to allow himself to be surprised.

Harry and Malak had been very careful where they had stationed all of their men; every woman or child who could draw a bow sufficiently had joined the tribe's archers on the cliffs surrounding the gorge, ferreted into the nooks and crannies from which they could cover the sands below. A group of forty of the city's more experienced warriors along with the majority of Harry's Serpent Guard were mounted on horseback on the far end of the valley, led by Malak, who would be ready for the counterattack when it came.

"Your Grace," the man next to him said, "the Akmunsans approach!"

Sure enough there were the tell-tale signs of the dust clouds thrown up by the hundreds of men marching towards the valley. Harry's scouts were falling back in front of them, being careful to try and avoid detection by the enemy although they need not have been so worried for from Harry's vantage point on the cliffs he could see that the army was moving with little in the way of scouts ahead of them, clearly they were confident that they would be the ones surprising and not the ones being surprised. Harry felt almost sorry to let them down so.

Murad was riding near the head of the column with his cavalry. Beside was something that troubled Harry, for it was a huge armour clad orc riding what looked like a cross between a hyena and a wolf. Even as Harry registered the figure he saw the infantry approach and there among the brightly coloured robes of the Akmunsan Haradrium infantry were the ominous black dressed misshapen forms of orcs. Harry cursed, his plan had been devised for Murad and human opponents and he was not sure how the orcs as experienced fighters might affect the plan. Could they see through it and ruin the whole thing?

Just as the head of the army was about to enter the gorge Harry gave the first signal and the first flag was waved. Looking down Harry saw that Malak had his handpicked cavalry unit of twenty men ready down the near side of the gorge. He and the couple of Serpent Guard who were among that unit had forsaken their uniforms in favour of the lighter and less obvious robes of a normal Haradrium soldier. When he saw the flag raised, the captain of Harry's guard pulled his men together and started down the valley.

Acting as a patrol they made their way slowly down the bottom until they came within sight of the Akmunsan army when they stopped and act as if they were a handful of men who had stumbled upon an army. It took some time for the Akmunsans to notice them but when they did Harry saw Murad making his arms and giving orders out. It was almost certain that they would give chase, they had to because they thought that Harry was back at Jaffa and they would want to maintain the element of surprise if possible. Sure enough moments later the majority of Murad's cavalry urged their horses forward into a gallop and charged at the small group of horsemen. Malak paused and waited for a couple of moments as Harry had ordered him to do, before turning round and galloping back down the gorge back in the direction of where Harry and his archers were hidden. Glancing back towards the main body of the army the King of Jaffa was disappointed to see that neither Murad or the orcish captain had chosen to give chase, which meant that the infantry would be likely to hold after the cavalry were ambushed instead of fleeing as he hoped might have happened.

Malak and his horsemen continued to taunt the Akmunsan cavalry, staying out of range constantly and occasionally turning round in their saddles to release a couple of arrows into the mass of charging horses and men, irritating them further. Horse archery was not a skill greatly practised by the Haradrium under Black Númenórean control and so the cavalry could do little more than spur their horses faster in the pursuit.

Harry waited, waited until he was sure that they had got as far as he wanted them to before he gave the signal. The Serpent Guard who was standing at his side, when he saw the flick of Harry's hand, stood and waved the banner that they had agreed to use as the signal. Immediately hundreds of arrows filled the air and rained down upon the cavalry below, striking men from their saddles and causing horses to fall to the ground with pitiful whinnies. Raising his wand Harry levitated the large amounts of spree and other pieces of small rock before banishing them down at the horsemen. Almost at as a wave dozens of them went down as they were hit by hundreds of pieces of shrapnel-like rock.

Meanwhile the main Akmunsan army had just entered the gorge and were witnessing the massacre that was unfolding in front of them. Already Harry could see that panic was hitting their soldiers and Murad desperately trying to rally his men, to prevent them from running. Some did, but they were soon cut down by those foul orcs that Murad had brought with them and soon the disorder was quelled.

The armoured orc beside Murad gave an order and his men begun to spread out, running to either side of the gorge edges and begun to climb through the mass of large boulders and stones to get to the same level as Harry and his archers, to deny them the advantage of the high ground. Murad however had brought forward his own archers and was having them direct volleys of arrows up onto the cliffs to try and keep the Jaffa archers pinned down whilst his orcish allies could route them out of the caves and crevices where they were hiding.

Fortunately Harry had suspected that Murad might send some men up into the cliffs from the far side of the valley where it was easier to climb than nearer the middle and so had made plans for it. Sure enough as the orcs scrambled over the rocks and boulders soon cries of pain and fear begun to sound as dark shapes rose out of the rocks and struck them again and again. Harry's snakes, he had brought them all the way from Jaffa because he knew that they would useful and now they were proving it as the hunters became the hunted. Without the orcs to keep them in line and with the sight of their allies being killed and consumed by huge snakes, the enemy infantry began to break. It was slow at first with only a couple men towards the back of the column running but soon men were streaming away despite the efforts of their officers and their commander.

The time for the killing blow had come. Harry raised a horn to his mouth and blew hard on it, the noise echoing around the gorge. Moments later the sound of hoof beats could be heard and Harry levitated himself down to the gorge base using his wand as the Jaffa cavalry came round the corner, Malak out ahead of them leading a spare horse which Harry quickly mounted. The Akmunsan archers, stranded out ahead of the main block of the infantry, started to fire rapidly but only a couple of the charging cavalry went down before Harry, Malak and their men were upon them.

Harry struck down hard with his new sword at the first archer who came within reach, opening the man's skull so the sky blue of Harry's sword meshed with the red of the man's blood and the grey of his brain. The man immediately behind him tried to fire a wild, close range shot that grazed Harry's cheek. He was the next to fall, the sword removing his head from his shoulders with a single swipe. Harry struck again and again on both sides, opening bodies and skulls, removing limbs and severing weaponry that was held out desperately in defence.

As Harry and the rest of the cavalry cut down the archers, the infantry behind them could do little more than huddle closer together with their spears sticking out to form what looked like a hedgehog. Though hundreds had already deserted, there must have been at least four hundred men still there and it was going to be a tough nut to crack.

"Use the cavalry to force them to stick together in that formation," Harry order Malak, "and bring the archers down and order them to shoot into the mass."

It was slaughter, there was nothing the men could do to avoid the arrows because they were packed so tightly together that they could not move, if they ducked or tried to dodge the arrows then they would only hit the man next to him. Dozens were killed in this way, their bodies riddled with shafts which hit them even as they fell to the ground dead. Others never got the chance to fall, held at their positions by the close packed men around them. Murad stood at the centre of the collapsing circle, underneath his banner of the Eye of Mordor matched with his own family colours. Surrounding him were the elite of Akmunsa, the Black Númenóreans themselves instead of the normal Haradrium who would make up the majority of their armies normally. Dressed in black heavy armour they stood around Murad as their servants were slaughtered around them.

Eventually the Haradrium infantry broke and Harry held up his hand to prevent anybody from giving chase to already defeated men when there were still enemies who were fighting on the field. Now all that was left was fifty Black Númenórean guards surrounding their generals and they must have known that they would not survive long against a constant bombardment of arrows. Harry rode forward into plain view, his sword strapped to his side as he was confident that he could use his magic should he have any need.

"I would offer terms of surrender," he shouted to the circle, "for those who wish to live, I swear upon my honour and upon my gods that no human will die today should you surrender now!"

"Who are you to offer terms?" Murad's voice came.

Harry smiled beneath his helmet, "I am the King of Jaffa," he said removing the covering from his head, "surrender now and live, fight on and die!"

Whispers broke out among the Black Númenóreans as he was recognised, no doubt they had all been assured that he was dead and it was some Haradrium who lead the forces against him. They had all heard rumours of him and so were now frightened for fear that he could just rip them apart with magic.

"You!" Murad said angrily, stepping out from the circle of men, "come face me coward!"

Harry regarded him coolly, before dismounting. There was no way for him to avoid this confrontation not after being challenged openly in front of both sides and besides it was not like he wanted to avoid it, indeed he was going to relish it. Sword fastened to his side, wand in one hand and his staff in the other he stepped forward to meet his opponent.

Seeing Harry accept the challenge Murad immediately begun to chant in a dark language, totally unknown to Harry. Black mist begun to pour from the end of his staff, and started to solidify to form a dark shape. Hands, feet and a head begun to take shape and soon it started to look eerily like a dementor.

"Shade!" Malak shouted, standing back.

Even the Black Numenoreans around Murad started to retreat desperately. The air around the pair begun to cool dramatically, leaving Harry in little doubt as to the nature of the magic that was being performed. It was probably the darkest magic that Murad knew and he was saving it up just for Harry, wasn't that sweet. Fully formed the shade flew at Harry, its clawed hand slashing at him. Murad was laughing madly in the background and all around him people were trying desperately to get away. At first he was able to avoid it but soon it was being pushed back before at last he spotted a gap and diving under one of the swoops of the shadow's hand he barrel rolled away from the thing.

"Expecto Patronum!" he shouted, holding his wand out.

The normally silvery light of the patronus appeared, barely visible in the heat and light of the summer midday. Except that it was not a stag that came out, instead it was a snake one of his giant ones. The shadow attacked it but the patronus serpent struck, striking the thing in the chest region burying its teeth deep into the shade. The blackness seemed to wail, a cry of deep pain and anger. It tried desperately to fend off the attacks, but the patronus had it pinned to the ground and was striking again and again, until finally it unlocked its jaws and opening its mouth wide consumed the shade whole. Immediately the coolness in the air disappeared and the fierce heat of the desert was back, and Murad stood there in shock.

"My turn!" Harry grinned savagely, "stupefy!"

Murad didn't have time to avoid the stunning spell and it hit him in the dead centre of his heart, causing him to keel over unconscious. Harry turned to the rest of the defeat Númenóreans.

"I ask you again," he shouted, "will you surrender, or will you continue to fight?"

Somewhere someone was the first to cast down his arms and soon the clangs of men doing similar until almost every man had disarmed himself. Only the orc captain remained and finally he too stepped forward and with a savage snarl through down his huge war axe at Harry's feet. Harry merely regarded it coolly before turning to Malak and nodding. The captain of Harry's guard stepped towards the orc and punched him as hard as possible with the pommel of his sword in the stomach, causing the huge creature to double over as the wind was knocked from his body. Harry drew his sword and stood over the downed chieftain, before raising it above his head to remove the creature's head.

"I am a servant of Mordor, and Sauron the Great," it growled regaining its breath, "you will regret this!"

"You might be a servant of Mordor," Harry said quietly, "but today you were a servant of Akmunsa, and today was the day you were unlucky enough to be caught by the enemy."

With that he struck down, cutting the orc's head clean off its shoulders. Immediately there were protests coming from the Black Númenóreans and several of them snatched up their weapons, thinking the same was about to happen to them too. One of them walked forward.

"You gave us your word," he spat, "do you break it this easily?"

"No I do not," Harry said calmly, "but if you remember I promised to allow only the humans the gift of life, not scum such as this."

The man looked angry and hesitant before nodding stiffly and once again the men dropped their weapons. Harry was hesitant, if they had found that so hard to accept then how would they take what was still to come?

"I lost seventeen good men today," Harry said, "and I demand a hundred silver coins for each man as compensation. I will take half of all Black Númenóreans captured as hostage against this payment, if it does not come within two weeks, I will kill one for every day that it is over."

His demand caused the man from Akmunsa to wince, not probably because of the amount of money rather the extremely low losses that Harry had experienced in comparison to their own hundreds of dead.

"As well as that," Harry continued, "you are to leave all arms and equipment here on the field, to be collected by my men for the use of my armies. Further conditions will be relayed as part of an agreement of ceasefire, rather than this agreement of surrender."

There was a reason why the Haradrium of Jaffa tended to use bows and spears rather than swords and shields, as well as wearing leather armour rather than metal. Such things were expensive, both to buy and to maintain, and there were few who were skilled enough craftsmen to make them and they tended to be members of the larger and more affluent tribes and cities, such as Akmunsa. With the capture of such much equipment he would be able to fully equip every man under his banner with swords and armour, as well as having a load which could be stored for further use. In one move the Akmunsans had rearmed Jaffa. When he had finished reciting his demands for the surrender he called for Malak.

"Bring forward Murad!" he ordered.

Two of his Serpent Guard had already anticipated his orders and had the man and his staff at hand. The staff Harry ordered to be send to Alatar whilst he awoke Murad with a flick of his wand, smiling with satisfaction when he saw his rival awake sprawled at his feet.

"Hello, Murad," he said looking down at his defeated foe. "Sorry things have to be like this but I need to send a message. Crucio!"

The figure on the floor twitched and screamed as the pain from the curse racked through his body. Wand in hand Harry was steeling his nerves, this was necessary for the survival of his people and message must be sent.

A little later when that particular piece of work had been done he was approached by another of his men, one of those whom he had sent to recover his snakes and finishing ratting out the remaining orcs from the cliff face.

"Milord, there were some orc survivors. What do you wish us to do with them?"

Harry turned to the young tribesmen who had spoken and looked at the prisoners for a moment. It was a good question, what did he want done with any of Murad's orcish allies who might have survived the battle. He looked at Malak.

"There were no survivors," he ordered shortly.

Malak nodded and gave the order, soon the cries of the prisoners could be heard as their throats were cut and their bodies thrown back into the gorge.

********The Traveller************

Lord Jermiah stood on top of the gate at Akmunsa, it had been a week since Murad and his forces had departed and there had still been no word. That had not particularly worried the council, Murad was quite an independent commander and would only be in contact if he needed too. That had not stopped Jermiah standing up on the gatehouse waiting for the army to return with his daughter. There was not much for him to do else, as since his disgrace he had been ostracised by Black Numenorean society as a whole. It was a pity that the Serpent Lord had fallen to assassination because his plan would otherwise have been perfect and he would not be in the same state as he was now. Even Castamir, his own son, had disowned him and joined with Murad's pro-war camp which left Jermiah along with very little support.

Suddenly some movement caught his eye, a group of horses approaching fast down the road that led to Jaffa, Murad's flag flying high above them. Turning to the captain of the guard who stood before him, he said.

"Send word to the council, Murad has returned and will be coming through the main gate."

Jermiah hurried back down the gatehouse stairs ready to meet the men entering the city, he needed to hear news that his daughter and nephew were safe, although how safe he considered being in Murad's hands was a different matter. He had hoped that he had impressed upon his daughter during their last meeting what sort of a man Murad was and how much better for her Harry was, but he feared she had not taken his advice to heart.

Seeing the rest of the council standing obvious in one place Jermiah started to head over in that direction before stopping and smiling bitterly, he was no longer a member and so would not be welcomed among them for their great triumph. Instead he chose to stand slightly to one side so that he could be within sight incase Josephine was amongst the group but still not close enough to the council that he could hear and see their smug comments and faces.

Something was wrong, Jermiah noticed that as soon as the men came through the gates. They were unarmed, wore no armour and their horses were pulling a cart along behind them with a huge crate or chest on top of it covered with a cloth. The rest of the council and the people in general however continued cheering although the volume decreased as people took in the state of the moment.

"You were right not to go to war, Lord Jermiah," the lead man said, noticing him standing there, "the army was ambushed on the way, we endured heavy losses and were forced to surrender.

"Ambushed," Jermiah said sharply, "how did you manage to get ambushed, did Murad not have scouts posted ahead of the army?"

"He drew them back, milord," the soldier replied, "said he did not want to risk discovery by Haradrium scouts who might alert Jaffa."

Jermiah restrained the urge to throttle someone, "how the hell could he do something so completely and utter idiotic?"

Several of the more military minded men among the crowd murmured in agreement, whilst the wailing started among mothers who had heard news of the ambush and the heavy losses that had been sustained.

"They caught us in the Valley of the Kings and poured arrows down on us," the soldier continued, "and then whilst we were disorganised they unleashed their cavalry upon us. We lost hundreds and they only lost a couple dozen or so."

The council exchanged mutters of amazement at the disparity between the two figures and Jermiah agreed, whoever had been in command of the Jaffarian army was either a master tactician or had one at his disposal. To make matters worse tales of the battle would spread through Harad and every city would know that Akmunsa was weak and had been humbled. It would leave them open to attack and meant that they would have to sue for peace from Jaffa, which would be expensive if accepted and could easily be refused.

"Who lead them?" Jacquan-Hagar asked in his measured tones.

The soldier looked uncomfortable, "the Serpent Lord!"

Immediately eyes turned to Jermiah and be made sure to make his surprise obvious, he did not want them thinking that he might have known of this beforehand and planned it so as to get rid of one of his main opponents, though that is what it seemed to have done. Yet inside his mind was racing as he tried to think of how Harry could have survived, Thain had sent him a fully list of the injuries he had sustained and many of them would have been mortal wounds by themselves let alone with more than one.

"That is surprising," he said thoughtfully, "well my fellow lords might I suggest that we reconvene in council together in around an hour's time."

Jermiah turned round and began to consider how it would be best to try and salvage the situation. It was funny that now Harry was alive and had crushed their army his fellow councils members were all to ready to forget that they had removed him from his position only days ago and were ready to follow his lead once more. They expected him to magically wave a wand like some sort of wizard and conjure up a solution, the only thing was that no matter how hard he thought he had yet to think of one which was fool proof. The Serpent Lord had wiped out the majority of their army and taken much of their equipment so retaliation was totally out, not that it would have been something Jermiah would have advised anyway. He sighed and turned round heading back to his house, there were a number of letters that he would need to write now. He only hoped that Harry felt the need to consolidate his rule at home before imposing himself elsewhere.

"There is one other thing, Lord Jermiah."

Jermiah turned round and followed the soldier round to the cart which the man climbed upon and took hold of the cover surrounding the crate. The rest of the council came round interested as well in what this thing was that they were to see.

The soldier grimaced, "the Serpent Lord sends a gift!"

With that he whipped of the covers and revealed a cage. Inside the cage was a figure, held upright by straps attaching his arms to the roof of the cage. It blinked and lifted its head to reveal a scraggy face, racked with what looked like claw marks but in actual fact came from his own nails. Jermiah gazed with almost pity upon what was left of Murad, scarred and really quite clearly mad. As soon as he saw people standing there he started to growl like a gorilla before throwing himself against the cage desperately trying to reach them, his claw-like nails extended.

"The Serpent Lord tortured him to insanity with his magic," he said quietly, "he said if he had gone any further Lord Murad would have been left in a coma, barely able to do anything, but he said it was a better message this way."

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**AN: That's Murad dealt with for the time being and now on to other issues for Harry. Next chapter will focus a lot more on the magic he is learning, apparition (going to be hard for Harry) and politics. I am not very happy with the section with Josephine trying to seduce Harry but I needed to state how Harry distrusted her.**

**In other news, I have decided that I am almost certain the next crossover will be Game of Thrones/A Song of Fire and Ice. Therefore I have started a A Song of Ice and Fire fic, The Southern Wolf, to get me used to writing the characters and give me some ideas, so can any of my readers who know the book or tv series perhaps read it and tell me what you think. It will be updated a lot slowly as this will definitely take precedence.**

**Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.**

**T Horn**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Thank you for all the support and comments that I have received for this story, I thought I would use this opportunity to answer some of the questions I have got regarding this fanfic.**

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**Timeline - The current time is the summer of 3017, a year before the Ringwraiths leave Mordor to go after Frodo, so the events of the Fellowship of the Ring will be coming up soon.**

**Order/Chaos - Some people like this, some don't. For those who don't, don't worry it won't be an important part of the story at all (or at least not for another couple of crossovers). It will be mentioned and used to explain some stuff but apart from that it will only play a minor part.**

**Size of cities - I have always imagined that cities such as Akmunsa would be under medieval sizes, roughly between 50-100 thousand (the same sort of size as London during the Middle Ages). Umbar would be a little better at nearing a quarter of a million. In this fic most of the population of Harad come from the nomadic tribes that roam the desert and from Umbar.**

**Size of armies - Because of the smaller populations, armies were never large. In LOTR ten thousand Uruk-Hai left Théoden in amazement, the full mustering of the Rohirrium was six thousand so it can be seen that armies were not large and so I have made some estimates.**

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Chapter 12

"Milord, there is simply nothing we can do. With the influx of people into Jaffa there is not enough food for everyone."

Harry frowned, rubbing the base of his chin with his fist. Since his victory at the Battle of the Valley of Kings as it had been formally named, despite its more common name of the Battle of the Valley of Blood, people had flocked to Jaffa. Many were sellswords or tribeless wanderers, who came for the wealth and opportunities that often came with an expanding, militarily successful city. The ones however that were the most important were the nomadic tribes, tribes ruled by chieftains who moved around the area nominally ruled from Jaffa or Akmunsa but in reality they did as they choose.

Malak had warned Harry not to expect much in service from them, they might pay a couple of fares and taxes but should they be ordered to the field, they would more than likely refuse and join the other side to prove their independence. Treating with them required large amounts of tact and flattery and Harry was finding it really, really tiring.

But this had been his life since he had brought Akmunsa to its knees six months ago. Well to be fair, he had not entirely defeated it, what remained of Akmunsa should it all be marshalled could still wipe Jaffa off the map, or rather it probably could without Harry's magic and without these new forces he had under his command, trusted or otherwise. Malak and Alatar together had estimated that Akmunsa along with most of the main Black Númenórean cities had around a standing army of 2,000 men each, although they could probably raise untrained levees of up to 5,000. All Black Númenóreans cities that is with the exception of Umbar, which could probably raise more than the rest of them combined.

Fortunately it did not look like Akmunsa was going to marshal its forces to move against Harry, envoys were already on their way to Jaffa to conclude a peace treaty between the two cities. No the problem was not Akmunsa, it was the other Black Númenórean city states who had become worried by Harry's recent actions and were introducing collective measures to deal with it. The High Priest of Sol Draconis in Umbar had secretly sent word to Malak that the forces of various lords there were assembling and the same was true across most of the seaboard cities.

At the moment there was no sign that there would be an outright invasion but at the moment all trade between Jaffa and the outside world had been utterly suspended. Merchants from other cities were no longer allowed to sell Jaffarian goods abroad or sell good to Jaffa. It was a dangerous situation for Harry, for while much of their lifestyle relied on self-sufficiency the city was going to be hard stretched to feed everyone with the new influx and now they were unable to buy food stocks in, and winter was coming.

This was the matter which they were debating today, Harry and his advisors, with the king himself seated wearily upon his throne whilst the rest of the council members sat round the circular table in the centre of the room. The Akmunsan dignitaries were expected tomorrow and Harry wanted ideas as soon as possible, so that should they need to be included in the treaty demands could be made. Harry sat quietly listening to all the advice that he was given, something that Alatar had advised would be the sensible thing, before he made any suggestions. His mentor had rightly pointed out that some people would back what he said not because it was the best solution but rather because he was the king and they thought that by agreeing with him, Harry would have reason to treat them as his favourites.

"How much food do we actually have?" Harry asked.

"Not much," the Councillor of Agriculture admitted, "we have enough for maybe another month or so if we continue at the current rate of production, but should anymore arrive…," he shrugged his shoulders, "well then we could be in some trouble."

After his first council meeting or meeting of advisors as it was now termed, Harry had totally changed the way it was set up. Joining the two older councils into one, adding positions in an inner council for particular areas of specialisation, had been some of the measures that he had introduced. So far he was pretty proud to admit it had been a bit of a success.

Harry sighed, "is there any way in which we could increase production?"

The Councillor scratched his chin thoughtfully, "well not really, I mean we have increased our irrigation systems through Your Majesty's own powers, so there is nothing we could do to improve our existing crops. Also we cannot plant new ones because that would use up grain we cannot afford to lose."

"And what about meat and fish?" Malak asked from his place as Councillor for War. "Surely we are a little better off there?"

The Councillor perked up a little bit, "that is true, particularly with the fishing. Good news is that some of these news arrivals are fishermen or have come from fishing villages and there is plenty of fish out there in the waters. The only problem is that we have neither the boats, nor the men who know how best to craft them, but we are doing the best we can and so we can expect production from that sector to increase."

That piece of good news, small though it was, seemed to put everyone at ease a little more though Malak still remained troubled.

"The trouble with fishing," he growled, "is that it is totally impossible to protect unless we build a fleet, that is the only thing that would prevent them from being picked off by Black Númenórean ships intent on starving us out."

"Is that an option?" Harry asked him.

Malak sighed, "it depends, a decent force would require a couple of corsair ships and indeed they might help solve a lot of our problems. The only thing is that most corsairs are under the dominance of Umbar and the Captain of the Havens finding one who is not would be hard to do."

"Hard or impossible?" Alatar asked.

"Impossible," Malak said, "not unless we suddenly find ourselves with a glut of gold big enough to lure a couple of captains with their crews out of Umbar and into our service, unfortunately we don't have the gold and are not likely to get it because other cities are no longer trading with us."

The other councillors murmured in agreement and Harry had to resist the urge to despair, the winning of the battle had been so much easier than this but Alatar and common sense had shown him that he would be unlikely to be able to carry on winning battles unless he was able to sort out these problems.

"What perhaps we should do," Harry said mildly, "is say that in order to swear loyalty each of the nomadic tribes must offer up a fifth of all livestock which we will use to feed everybody."

"They won't agree to that," Malak said sceptically, "those herds of theirs are their lifeblood."

Harry nodded, "I'd thought of that and so had come up with a solution, they can offer up the same number of sheep or goats, no matter to whom they belong. The only conditions should be that they do not come from Akmunsa, Jaffa or any of the other allied tribes."

Malak whistled, "so you would have them raiding our neighbours to provide the livestock which they will then give to us. So the Black Númenóreans who are trying to starve us will the ones who in the end are feeding us. I like it!"

"The Black Númenóreans won't!" Alatar warned.

"What would you suggest?" Harry asked.

Alatar thought for a moment, "What about looking for other trade partners?"

The councillor for trade shook his head, "there are none, not now that Mordor has official or semi-official blacklisted us. Not only are we in danger of facing the wrath of the Eye and its legions but also the Easterlings and the Variags of Khand will not trade with us now. So not there are no more trade partners for us to trade with."

"I was not talking about looking further east or south," Alatar said taking a puff of the pipe he had just lit, "rather looking west and north."

"You would have us trade with Gondor and the elves?" Malak spat with anger.

Harry groaned, this meeting was going to end in a bloodbath. The mere mention of the possibility of trading with Gondor was sure to set any Haradrium on a warpath, Harry didn't like the idea either naturally distrusting all Gondorians because of the treatment he had received at their hands. Fortunately Alatar had given him forewarning of what he planned to propose and that had allowed Harry to have his rant in private and not in front of the council, unfortunately everyone else had not been told and so were now expressing their indignation and outright opposition to any proposal of negotiating with the Haradrium's natural enemies.

"Yes," replied Alatar, still unconcerned as he puffed away, "the goods of Harad only ever enter Gondor through smuggler routes, opening an official trade route could be extremely profitable. Not only that but the goods, particularly armour and weapons, that Gondor can return are far above anything in quality that can be found made here in Harad or anywhere else under Mordor's reach."

"Your Grace," Malak addressed Harry directly, "you must know that should word of this reach people's ears there will revolts, unrest and the Black Númenóreans will be sure to invade. What's more is that should you go down this path I will be forced to resign my posts and return to Umbar."

It was an idle threat, both Harry and Malak knew it as the captain of Harry's guard had taken powerful oaths and vows, such things that could not just be dropped and broken because he wanted to. Those oaths bound Malak to Harry until he died, but this was the course that Harry imagined he thought most clearly showed his opposition to the idea. Fortunately Harry and Alatar had planned for such.

"My friend, you and I find ourselves once again in agreement," Harry said, "for do not forget what I myself suffered at the hands of these enemies of our people and our nation. However at times we must be forced to compromise what we believe and make peace with those upon whom we would rather war, so that we can be better prepared for when that war comes. Tell me, Alatar, are there any other peoples apart from Gondor and the elves with whom trade might be possible?"

A prearranged question that Alatar already had the answer to. They had known that asking the Haradrium to blindly accepting trading with Gondor would be too much to ask for and so had come with other plans. Gondor was not the only power to the west.

"There are, my prince," the elderly wizard said with a bow, "to the north of Gondor there is the country of Rohan, the home of the Rohirrium the Horselords. From there we can perhaps trade horses, get new and better stock into our own lines, for it is said that is where even the Eye and the Nine go for their mounts. Yet we could get not also horses from Rohan for they also have good trade links with Gondor and so we can get their products in a more roundabout way without the hostility we would face in Gondor."

Already Harry could see some of the heads beginning to nod in agreement, he smiled knowing that a lot of the reason they were agreeing was not because they thought that it was a good idea but rather because there was a chance to strengthen the bloodlines of their own beloved horses. New stock into the gene pool, particularly superior stock, was always welcome among the Haradrium.

"We will get a good reception in Rohan," Alatar continued, "for the leader of my order and my dear friend, Saruman the White, has great influence there and he would be sure to help us. Further to the north we have the ruminants of Arnor, skilled rangers and expert bow makers, who can supply us with the long bows of a superior type than that wielded by the rangers of Gondor. And then even further to the north and west there are the dwarves, the master smiths, from whom we can get weaponry and armour superior to almost everything else found in Middle Earth."

There was a lot of exaggeration there and Harry sure that a lot of those people would not be as willing to help them and supply them with weaponry as Alatar suggested but it was still the best plan they had and at the same time they managed to avoid having to trade with Gondor. The only problem would be arranging so that the caravans or convoys of ships to and from Gondor were not attacked either by Jaffa's rivals in Harad or by the armies of Mordor themselves.

"That sounds a better alternative," Malak admitted appeased by the compromise.

The councillor for trade seemed to agree, "it is a sound plan, my only concern is how we are going to open this trade routes and then how we are going to maintain them. Opening them will require either my lord Alatar or His Grace, as the only non-Haradrium among us, to go as envoys whilst maintaining them will require an army or a fleet. We can afford neither of these things."

"I agree that at the moment it is not right for either myself or Alatar to be out of the kingdom," Harry said, "we are both needed here and so we ought to address the other concern of maintaining the trade routes so that when we are ready they can be opened and kept open."

The men around the table nodded their heads, there was absolutely no way that Harry and Alatar could afford to be away from Jaffa when it was so weak in terms of military numbers as their magic afforded the city's primary defences.

"We need a fleet!" Malak argued passionately, "then we can keep open trade links!"

Harry groaned, to open the trade routes they needed a fleet, to get a fleet they needed more money, to get more money they needed to trade. The whole thing seemed to go in circles, round and round again with no clear answer.

*******The Traveller*******

The day later Harry was sitting outside in his ceremonial armour ready to greet Lord Jermiah who was riding to Jaffa to conclude the peace treaty between Jaffa and Akmunsa. Josephine stood beside Harry, pleased to see her father again for the first time in around seven months or so and pleased with the knowledge that her father's visit bring around her marriage to the man who sat on the throne before her.

Harry was cautiously thinking about how best to address the man who was approaching the city. Whilst Harry had spent the last six months collecting oaths of fealty and worrying about the various problems facing Jaffa, Lord Jermiah had spent the last six months solidifying his rule over Akmunsa. The old Black Númenórean style of a ruling council and oligarchy had been overthrown, replaced instead by Lord Jermiah ruling alone as a dictator over the whole city. What remained of Murad's family along with several of the other major lords had fled to Umbar, whilst those that were left had bent the knee and sworn service. Akmunsa was facing much the same problems as Jaffa, with the Black Númenóreans also afraid of Jermiah's ambition and fearful that others might follow his example and so as such had stopped all trade with Akmunsa as well.

That alone seemed to grantee that Jermiah would demand that Harry marry Josephine, as a way to strengthen an alliance that was entirely isolated and to give himself an ally to support him in his new form of rule over Akmunsa. Already Harry had heard rumours of two noble led revolts against his future father-in-law, revolts that had led to fighting in the streets before Lord Jermiah had regained control of the situation. Those families that had risen against him would never arise again, the first had been wiped out to a man and their children and womenfolk sold into slavery. When the second came Jermiah must have realised that he need to make more of a statement and a warning of what would happen to those that rebelled against him; every child under the age of twelve was crucified around the city walls, the women were raped in mass rapes in the central market square until they bled to death whilst the men were taken to a leper village where they were tied to tables and the leper whores mounted them again and again until there was no chance that they were not affected. There were no more rebellions.

Tales of Jermiah's brutality had reached Jaffa and already he had been given the unofficial nickname of Jermiah the Tyrant among its inhabitants, although they were careful to never make reference to name in front of any of the Black Númenóreans. These stories had been brought by those fleeing from his reign who came to settle in Jaffa, but Harry on the advice of his council only accepted those that they needed, for fear of upsetting the fragile truce by taking in Jermiah's opponents. Harry had already resolved that he was not going to bring the matter up with Jermiah, he was not going to tell him the way he should rule his kingdom. The way he was doing so seemed only a little worse that what was considered as normal in Haradrium and Black Númenórean society.

Harry and Josephine had grown closer over the last couple of months, she had made no more attempts to try and seduce him after her first and last complete failure of an attempt but instead had tried to become a friend instead. There were still barriers between them, such as the fact that Harry knew that he would never ever trust her as fully and utterly as perhaps a husband should, that he would always have to keep an eye on her to make sure she was not causing trouble or manipulating people behind his back. That aside the two of them had got on surprisingly cordially during their talks and Josephine had taken to accompanying Harry whenever he chose to ride out in the country surrounding Jaffa.

A flag dipped from high up on the battlements above the main gate, the signal that told Harry that Jermiah and his company were riding through the gates and so would soon be here. Harry glanced up onto the roofs of the houses and buildings surrounding the central square, he had learnt much during his trip to Akmunsa and knowing that they were covered by archers was one good way to ensure the Akmunsans behaved themselves.

Jermiah looked impressive Harry was forced to admit as he rode into the square, surrounded by his bodyguards and retainers who were all armed to the death. The Lord of Akmunsa was dressed in gold covered scale armour that shone in the sunlight and gave it the rippling effect of the scales of a fish. Indeed looking at the whole company of men was hard because of the way that the sun was reflecting off the hundreds of different pieces of gold polished to perfection. It was a statement, a statement Harry didn't quite appreciate.

"My lord Harry," Jermiah said genially dismounting from his horse, "it is good to see you again and so far raised above the station I had seen you last."

Harry inclined his head slightly, "the same can be said of you, Lord Jermiah, I hear you have been busy."

The gold coated figure laughed heartily, "I have a gift to you as a present for your hospitality!"

Two huge men brought forward a large chest, which was heavily decorated and set it down before Jermiah. Kneeling down the Lord of Akmunsa took a key from around his neck and undid the massive locks that kept the chest sealed. Lifting the lid caused more beams of light to be reflected right at Harry who was forced to shade his eyes against them with his hand.

"Your ceremonial armour, I believe," he said grandly, "you requested it of me several months ago but now I return it to its rightful place and owner."

Harry smiled, he felt somewhat relieved that it had been returned. Now he had something which he could wear which would match the magnificent armour and clothes of people like Jermiah on ceremonial occasions such as this.

It was now Jermiah turn to great his daughter, who Harry was forced to admit looked every part the daughter of one of the most powerful men in Harad, beautiful and regal. She curtsied low to her father and murmured the necessary niceties. Harry wondered whether or not they would have a warmer reunion when they were alone, after all they were family and this all looked a little stiff but then considered whether either of their personalities would allow it.

She was now the only of his children that he was currently on relatively good terms with, of his other children one son was dead whilst the other was in exile in Umbar with his father's enemies. Harry didn't think that Castamir and his father would ever reconcile, both were proud men, or in Castamir's case a proud and arrogant boy, and neither would be ready to admit that they were wrong.

"I thought it would be best to get straight to the talks," Harry said, "or would you rather have some time to recover from your ride."

"Starting the negotiations straight away would be preferable," Jermiah replied, "although I would like some time after to clean myself up before we eat."

Harry nodded, "of course, if you would follow me."

Harry and his council had long debated what would be the best location for the negotiations to take place, and whose attendance would be the most needed. Unsurprisingly the council were calling for them to be held in the council room with the whole council in attendance whereas Harry preferred somewhere more private and only him and Jermiah. That way some issues could be discussed which would not be able to be discussed among the council. In the end they reached a compromise, Harry and Jermiah would start the negotiations together, in solitude, before coming together with the council to conclude them in the council chambers.

The venue Harry had chosen was one of the old armouries up high with a balcony that overlooked the sea, the one which he and Alatar had cleared out to be used as one of his training rooms. He had chosen it for a number of reasons; it was isolated from all of the other used rooms as the rooms that surrounded it only gathered dust, there was a pen inside of it that held several of his largest snakes which would give him a weapon should he need one and he knew its layout well.

The two of them entered and took a seat on the chairs that Harry had arranged to be laid out there, he had gone on a mission to find the most comfortable chairs in the whole city as he knew that they would be sitting there for some time, most likely a number of hours at least. Jermiah was accompanied by a huge man, some sort of servant come bodyguard Harry imagine. He was not just tall, at around six and a half foot, but was also build like a brick wall with imposing muscle and limbs that looked like they were as thick as tree trunks.

"A glass of wine," Harry offered, "I am sure you would like some after your long ride?"

"That would be very much appreciated," Jermiah agreed.

Beckoning a servant forward, Harry poured two goblets full of the red liquid and set one down in front of Jermiah. The other man picked it up before passing it to his muscle bound companion, who carefully sniffed at it, swirled it around examining it before taking a sip. Jermiah looked at him expectantly for a couple of seconds before the man nodded and passed the goblet back down to his master who also took a sip.

"It's good wine," Harry said, misreading the situation.

"It was not the quality of the wine that was being checked," Jermiah said carefully, "just making sure it had not been tampered with."

Poison, of course Harry had totally forgotten about it. An old favourite among the Haradrium, despite its label as the weapon of woman and eunuchs, and widely used which left Harry wondering whether it would be sensible for him to have something similar done. Or perhaps there was a spell or some other sort of magic which might allow him to detect anything which had been added to his drink, either way it was something that he thought he ought to talk to Alatar about.

"Take no offense," Jermiah said noticing Harry's expression, "it is just I have many enemies and this is only a precaution."

Harry nodded, "a very wise one too! Just wondering whether or not I should do something similar."

"Poison is such a cowardly weapon," Jermiah said with scorn, "it requires little skill and absolutely no courage, the reason it is the weapon of those who are missing such parts which allow them that needed nerve. It has it uses but the practitioners of such an art should be watched closely."

Harry was tempted to agree, not with the fact that woman and eunuchs and other people who lacked the male organ could not be courageous rather that anyone who used potions and poisons should be watched carefully. Snape sprung to his mind. Jermiah dismissed his servant and the two of them sat back for what was about to come.

"Not so long ago," Jermiah said idly, swirling the wine in his goblet around, "we were sitting in the same way in my house back at Akmunsa. So much has changed since then, has it not my friend?"

"Indeed it has," Harry replied.

A lot had changed, for both of them. Harry had gone from an oddity camped in a foreign land to being a war hero and king. Jermiah's turn around had been equally, if not more, impressive as he overturned hundreds of years of a city's tradition of an oligarchy to set himself up as the single ruler of a city in which he had once been one of many rulers.

"I wish to make the situation clear to you," Jermiah said, "I could crush you should I so choose, my army vastly outnumbers your own and although my magic users are nowhere near as powerful as yourself, they are much more in numbers. Methinks that even a wizard as powerful as yourself could not hold off ten or twenty other magic users. Remember all of this during our negotiations."

Ah, the customary posturing and posing , each side saying how they were sure to win this and they were only at these talks to allow the other side the chance of surrender and to give them the opportunity to bask in the glory that was radiating from themselves. Harry loathed it.

"Let's skip the crap," Harry suggested, "we both need each other, let's not pretend anything otherwise. Both of our economies are screwed and neither of us can afford another fight between each other, both financially and because we have mutual enemies that will attack the moment either of us looks weak. We must work together!"

Despise it as he might, Harry knew that it was the truth. He could not afford another war and he most certainly was not sure whether or not he would be able to win one should it arise. When news of the atrocities that Jermiah had committed had reached Jaffa, Harry had wanted to call off the talks but had quickly been persuaded round by Alatar. Harry's morals might have been slightly compromised by what he had gone through over the last couple of months, both here and in his home world, but it had not gone so far that he was willing to work with people like Jermiah. For him such treatment reminded him to much of Voldemort.

However Alatar had been able to bring Harry round, when he suggested that Jermiah had been forced to do what he did to ensure that his reign held firm much as Harry had been forced to torture Murad to insanity to ensure that Akmunsans thought twice before launching another attack. The elderly wizard explained how such acts, no matter how depraved or atrocious they were, were not done willingly and were what was needed to be done.

"That much is true," Jermiah admitted, "we need each other now that the rest of Harad has isolated us, so let us begin."

So begun talks that would change the face of Middle Earth from then on, talks that would create an empire and a dynasty that would last until the end of worlds.

* * *

**Author's Note; next chapter the talks, I decided to make Jermiah a little more ruthless than he has been portrayed up until now because I felt that it was needed. Hope you enjoyed the chapter.**

**Happy New Year to all.**

**T Horn**


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: Sorry for the time I have been away but here is another chapter to make up for it. I have decided to move things on a little bit, mainly because I am getting slightly bored of Harad and want out. Anyway here is the chapter...**

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Chapter 13

_Single moments are enough to raise a man from mortal to immortal and for many in this land of Harad in which our lord found himself this moment was his success at the Field of the Valley of Blood. Men forgot that the title of Serpent Lord and Avatar of the Gods had been bestowed upon him merely for political reasons, and instead it became truth as many lies do after hundreds of tellings._

_Yet the best was still to come, for despite his victory the Emperor was still perceived to be of humble origins and was for the most part unknown outside of Harad. Yet word had got out, out to a very particular group of people, people who were on their way for the better or worse of the Emperor, it would remain to be seen for I cannot with good conscious ruin what is be written with foretelling. _

_As I set in my library high above the city below, I often wonder whether or not there has ever been a man, before or since, that has ever matched our Emperor Harry Potter. Wondered whether it was only chance and the decisions he made that raised him from Harry Potter to Emperor of all Creation, or whether he was the man that Fate had chosen for this great destiny. Perhaps somewhere in the worlds there is another like him, a man or woman who if they had made other choices or fate had determined otherwise could have, would have even, been as great._

_Fate. Destiny. Fortune. Chance. Such words cannot be omitted in the telling of this tale. A tale to which we must now return…_

** The Chronicler**

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As the Lord of Jaffa took in the departing dust cloud that moved further and further away from the city, he knew that he was being scrutinised by many of those that were around him. He waited for a couple more minutes until Akmunsans disappeared from sight beyond the horizon, before he turned and allowed himself to internally sigh with relief.

All around him men, women and children were watching him, looking keenly for any expression that might give away a little of what he was thinking. Very few knew the details of the treaty which had been arranged between Harry and Jermiah and only he and his Akmunsa counterpart knew the full details, the ones which would never be formally agreed.

Harry headed down the steps, followed closely behind in order of rank by his advisors and councillors meaning he was flanked at either side by Malak and Alatar. Not only after Jermiah had left Harry had sent out orders for the full council to assemble so that the concluded treaty could be read and discussed. Each of the major council members knew a little bit, Harry had called in the Councillor for Trade and Commerce when he and Jermiah were about to start their negotiations regarding a trade settlement whilst he had also had pre-meeting discussion with both Alatar and Malak when the topic was turned to Mordor and Umbar.

The Council chambers were soon filled pretty much to the brim, as every single minor tribal leader or secular figure of authority crowded into the room so as to be some of the first to hear the details of what their new king had agreed with their enemies on their behalf. Of course they would not be getting the full details, even the copy of the treaty that Harry had shown to Alatar and Malak had been further edited down and reworded before its release.

Once everyone was assembled the main doors were thrown open wide and Harry's Serpent Guard, now his official bodyguards marched in in two ranks. Once they were inside the hall they halted and turned so that faced inwards before lowering their spears to form an arch through which Harry entered the hall and assumed his seat on the throne. Alatar and Malak took flanking positions either side of throne whilst the Serpent Guard either dispersed themselves around the edges of the room or formed up in front of the throne. Large numbers of palace servants had decided that today was the day to be cleaning the council chambers whilst common folk squeezed themselves into the galleries and any other space that could be found. Harry raised his hand and immediately a hush settled over the room.

"My friends and people," he begun in a strong voice, "I have on your behalf concluded between ourselves and former enemies in the city of Akmunsa. It has been decided to give an opportunity for the terms to be read to you, the people for whom it has been agreed, so you should know what I and my councillors have been able to achieve!"

Harry motioned forward the master of ceremonies who it had been decided would be the one who would read out the terms, pausing every now and them for Harry or one of his advisors to make an comment.

"The Treaty of Jaffa, concluded on 18th of this month, the seven of the year 3017 in the Third Age of Middle Earth," the master said pompously, "between Lord Jermiah, Regent of Akmunsa, and King Harry, first of his name, King of Jaffa and Serpent Lord."

There was a roar of cheers as Harry's name was introduced coming from the common people who were continuing to try and get a better view of the proceedings. Harry smiled indulgencing, slightly embarrassed, all the time ignoring the frowns of distaste coming from many of the tribe's old elite. Some people were easier to win over than others.

"In a sign of his wish for the continuation of the great friendship between the cities of Jaffa and Akmunsa, Lord Jermiah would like to make the gift of four thousand silver coins to his greatest friends and allies."

It had been no gift but had to be forced out of Jermiah after heavy debate. Akmunsan coffers were not in the same sorry state as Jaffarian ones, and so Harry had thought that it would only be fair for the other city to give make much of the wealth that it can made for the destruction and occupation of the original city. Harry motioned for the master to be quiet for a moment.

"As this was a gift to the people of Jaffa," Harry pronounced, "it is only fair that it goes to the people of Jaffa. Every family is entitled to three coins, with a further coin to every man or woman who fought with me at the Field of Blood and fifteen to the families of each man who fell there."

Harry had originally only wanted to do this because the thought that the families of those who had died serving him would be going hungry without a breadwinner horrified him and his twentieth century morals. Malak and Alatar had thought it a political move and approved it, though Harry suspected they would not be so willingly if they knew his true motive. Admittedly for all the other families it was a token payment, little else. What's more as the inflation and price rises coming from the city's trade problems started to hit, two silver coins might be enough for families to offset the balance at least to begin with.

The master of ceremonies waited for Harry's signal before continuing, "the villages of Sahfir and Hyhad will pass into Akmunsa control and the King of Jaffa willingly surrenders all claims over them for all time."

The resulting expression of outrage and murmurings of discontent was enough to make Harry wince. This had been something upon which his hand had been forced, it was a heavily disputed region indeed at around the same time as the Battle of the Field of Blood there had been a minor skirmish in the village of Sahfir, one that the Akmunsans had won easily. Neither of the two were large villages however both of them had large clay mines near them, and whilst Jaffa had a number of other clay mines Akmunsa didn't and needed them for their supply of pottery.

"Quiet!" Harry said sternly, before waiting for silence to fall, "please continue, Master."

"Very good, Your Majesty," the Master of Ceremonies bowed, "in return for this concession the Regent of Akmunsa agrees to hand over control of the province of Lesser Treghorn, its customs, inhabitants and taxations."

If there had been outrage before it had been quickly drowned out by cheers of approval, Lesser Treghorn was some of the most fertile territory under Akmunsan control, second only to Greater Treghorn, and was a massive concession. Whereas Harry had given away two less than important, at least from a Jaffarian prospective, villages he gained five vital ones in return including one of a size that it could probably be classed as a small town. With his magic he should be able to at least relief some of the stress caused by the food shortages.

The rest of the treaty was a whole mixture of trade regulations and agreements as well as prisoner releases and other such less important matters, which left many people including Harry quite bored. Of course there were moments of interest for various groups of people as various groups of craftsmen and their trades had regulations added or removed, but in the whole it seemed like the reception to the treaty was cautiously favourable. Of course there was one major more point that still had yet to be announced.

"Finally regarding the marriage of His Grace," the Master of Ceremonies announced.

Immediately a lot of the chatter died down to a deadly silence and Harry could see Josephine, standing over at the far side of the hall, stiffen at what she heard. Harry had no delusions that marrying a non-Haradrium would be popular in Jaffa, particularly among the nobility who would have hoped that perhaps they might have been able to set their own daughters up as a queen.

"His Grace is to marry the Lady Josephine of Akmunsa," he continued, "binding our two cities together as a dynastic union as well as one of eternal friendship. For that end Lord Jermiah hereby names Harry Potter, King of Jaffa, as his heir to all his holdings both in Akmunsa and elsewhere."

Reactions around the room were fast in the coming; distress coming from various members of the nobility who saw their dreams torn in front of their eyes, anger at the snub but the most common one was amazement and confusion, the idea that Akmunsa and Jaffa could be bound together in a union with a Jaffarian monarch at its head was something that had never seemed to be on the cards and yet here it was presented to them as something that was going to happen. All their king needed to do was to marry this girl.

Josephine's reaction however had been the one that Harry had been studying carefully, he had an idea about how everyone else would react however he had no idea how his future wife was going to take it. Not well by the looks of it, certainly not good Harry admitted to himself as he watched the way that she forced her way through the crowd out of one of the smaller doors of the chambers.

He sighed, he hated it how nothing to do with girls ever went his way, he would rather have a crying Cho on his hands at the moment rather than an angry woman who knew many various painful ways in which to cause him pain.

Harry stood, "council dismissed!"

It took some time for everyone to leave and in the meantime, Harry sat on his throne deep in thought. There were a lot of administrative problems and issues that the treaty had created which would need dealing with, Harry hoped that Alatar had at least started to come with up solutions to some of them otherwise it was looking like it was going to be a very long night.

"Josephine did not look happy," Alatar nodded from beside him.

"Agreed," Harry sighed, "methinks that I am going to be regretting this soon."

"You had better go and have a talk with her," Malak advised.

Harry groaned and leant back further in his chair, "to I have to?"

Alatar nodded in agreement, "her father has effectively just sold her and given her inheritance to her future husband. Whilst she knew it would be coming, well the fact that it has come must be a shock."

"But there are all the problems which we need to sort out," Harry whined, "all the new taxes, trade laws and all that stuff."

Alatar looked amused, "I am sure that both Malak and I will be able to cope for the first hour or so, whilst you go and have a nice talk with your betrothed, or fiancée now I suppose!"

"But I'm not good with girls," Harry complained, "all they do is go and cry on me!"

Malak roared with laughter, "you better get used to it, Your Grace, you're getting married now after all."

With that Harry stalked out of the room fuming as the ringing laughter of his two advisors followed him.

Harry was told by one of her giggling serving girls that Josephine was currently out in the palace gardens. So, with a deep sigh, he headed off in that direction ignoring all the hints that were being made behind him. Sound was the thing that gave away the location of his future wife and it was not the sound of crying as Harry had expected, rather the sound of something being broken. Quickly making his way through the maze of vines and creepers that made up that portion of the garden Harry emerged out in a small square, surrounded on all sides by high green hedging. Just in time he ducked to avoid a pot that flew at his head.

Josephine had not aimed the pot at him, because she looked at the second she had in her hands as if demanding whether or not to throw it at him. He was rather relieved when she put it back down on the ground.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Your Grace?" she asked frostily, "or would you prefer, beloved husband instead?"

"We not married yet, Josephine," Harry said in a joking tone, instantly regretting it when he saw her expression.

Josephine's look of distain was filled with disgust, "something which I can assure you, Your Grace, is a source of great comfort for myself."

"There was nothing I could do," Harry said, not understanding what she was so upset about she had after all known that it was coming.

Josephine only snarled in response, "you could have told me, in private and not in front of the whole bloody city!"

Harry blinked in surprise, she had sworn. If Harry remembered correctly then that sort of thing was most certainly not encouraged in correct Black Númenórean society and so either it was something she had picked up whilst she was here, which Harry doubted, or she was just really, really angry. He took a cautionary step backwards, away from the furious woman.

She was probably right as well, Harry ought to have spoken to her, or at the very least warned her, before he had it announced particularly as they had been getting on much better these last few months. Their relationship was extremely complicated, the only thing that Harry could safely say about it was that it was not romantic or rather it had not been up until this point

"I should have told you," he agreed, "and I am very sorry that I did not. I guess I was just scared of what you would say."

He had been, absolutely terrified and that was part of the reason he had chosen to take the coward's way out and not tell her in private.

"It was one of the attractions of joining the service of the Dark Lord," Josephine said listlessly, not appearing to have heard his apology, "you married who you chose, none would dare to tell a priestess of Morgoth that it was their duty to marry a particular person. It was an escape, an escape from a duty that I had never wanted for myself. Now you have come into my life, and I find that I had not escaped as I thought I had."

Harry was silent, "why not, why did you feel the need to escape?"

"Men," Josephine snorted derisorily, "you think that you are all a girl desires, that you are all she dreams about, I had dreams as well, dreams that getting married would only destroy those dreams."

Harry frowned, "what were your dreams?"

Josephine paused for a moment, before collapsing down on one of the garden benches, Harry following her and sitting down beside her.

"Power," she admitted, "ever since I was young and I watched my father deal with people who upset him I realised that power was the reason people stuck to their station in society, for fear of the people above of them. I wanted to be the person at the top."

Caution began to creep into Harry's mind, he had recognised the links and connections between the woman in front of him and another woman whom he had met before and the tales he had heard of her origins. Bellatrix Lestrange, joined the Death Eaters in an attempt to avoid the overbearing influence of her family and to make a name for herself. Hermione had once said that Harry would be wise to keep an eye on those that in their younger years had no control over their lives, for in adulthood they would try to ensure that none would ever try to control him ever again.

The names of such people came to Harry's mind almost immediately, people who had rebelled against the society which in their youth had kept them enslaved. Tom Riddle, Bellatrix Lestrange, Hitler, Sirius Black, himself even. As he thought of Sirius, he felt guilt run through his body – he had been here for almost a year now and he had not thought of his godfather in a long time, much less do anything to find him.

"I suppose that I am lucky with you," Josephine continued, "in that you're not fifty years older than me, fat or even ugly. When I was fourteen my father said I was going to marry this old lord from Umbar, I refused and ran away to serve at Minas Morgul the same day."

"To be strong you must know weakness, to rule you must know how it is to be ruled," Harry said quoting someone.

Josephine looked up, "and I suppose you are an expert on the issue," she said sarcastically.

Harry laughed hollowly, "I know weakness, before I got here I was its definition. I know how it is to be ruled, my relatives hated magic and so I was treated as a servant. I am strong because once I was weak, I rule well because once I served."

"Well now you are powerful and strong, so high and mighty," she said bitterly, "you'll moved on to taking advantage of those weaker than yourself, you have become like those relatives that you despise so much."

Harry didn't know what possessed him to hit her, but before he could control himself the back of his hand had made a red mark on her cheek. She fell down before him, her hand clutching her bruised face. She seemed in shock, sitting as she was on the bench without movement.

"You think I am happy with this marriage?" Harry exclaimed angrily, "the idea of not marrying for love where I come from is considered outlandish and wrong. At least you have always known that for you that would be the case, before I came here I was pretty much free to do as I wished in that area and only now have I found that I gave lost my right to choose my own wife."

Tears began to form in Josephine's eyes and Harry felt pity for a moment, she had a hard life and so had he, there was no need for the two of them to continue making things even worse for each other. He wrapped his arms around Josephine, her head resting on his chest. She stiffened slightly at the contact before leaning into his embrace.

"I don't love you," Harry said in what he thought was a reassuring voice, "it would a stretch to even call you a friend, but we are going to be married. Neither of us particularly want it, but it is going to happen whether we want it to or not."

He had no idea whether or not what he saying was helping to reassure Josephine or whether it was instead making the problem worse.

"We must learn to live with it," he continued, "perhaps become friends before anything else. I promise that as your husband I will not stand in the way of your dreams, power is something that I too desire though perhaps not as much as you do."

It surprised him that he was not lying, his torture at the hands of the Gondorians as well as the whole drama at the Department of Mysteries had awoken something that he had buried deep down within himself. Something which had been forged in Privet Drive and in his uselessness during his years at Hogwarts, it was the same thing that had placed Tom Riddle on the path to becoming Lord Voldemort, the desire never to be dominated, ruled or controlled by someone other than himself.

"I'm so, so sorry," she hiccupped in his arms.

Harry sighed and stroked her hair as her face buried deeper and deeper into his chest, her sobs becoming louder and louder. He wondered whether it was only him that ever went through this, Cho and then Josephine, he hoped that him and Josephine did not end up like he and Cho had.

"Friends then?" Harry asked when she finally removed his head from his lap.

"Friends," she agreed, wiping her eyes, "promise me one thing though?"

Harry raised his eyebrow, "what?"

"Help my father," his bride to be asked, "keep him alive, I fear that those who he has persecuted will try and overthrow him."

Promising to do as she asked, Harry leant back against the back of the bench, his fiancée buried into his chest and his eyes closed. There was something about the way the normally strong woman had collapsed that was strangely thrilling.

*******The Traveller******

Harry groaned and shook his hand, the hand cramp was beginning to get to it from all the writing he had been doing. Formal documents that needed signing, positions of authority that needed to formally given as well as introducing new laws to keep an unruly populace in order. The gift of Lesser Treghorn was proving to be a lot more work than Harry had imagined, for while it solved his food crisis in the short term the people there saw themselves as Akmunsan and many of them would rather have nothing to do with either him or Jaffa.

"Your Grace!" came a voice nervously from the door.

Looking up Harry saw a servant standing there and so motioned for the man to pass on his message.

"The wizard Alatar sent me sire," he said, "you are needed in the Council Chambers, we have captured a spy from Umbar."

Harry nodded and got to his feet, careful not to disturb any of the still drying pieces of parchment on his desk. Following the servant he entered the Council Chambers where he saw Malak and Alatar standing near the Throne, with a group of his Serpent Guard standing round a chained man held to the floor. Taking his place on the throne Harry looked at Malak.

"Well?" he asked, "what happened?"

Malak looked grim, "he was found in the granaries, milord, with a tinderbox. We can only suspect that he meant to destroy our supplies, but we do not know for sure."

"No," Harry agreed, "but we can find out. Bring him forward!"

The Serpent Guard grabbed the man under the arms and dragged him forward and dropped him at the foot of the dais leading up to the throne. Harry drew his wand and pointed it at the man.

"Imperio!"

Harry watched as the spell took hold, plain to see from the way the man's eyes glazed over but he checked by having the man almost bite his own finger off. Once he was sure that he had complete control over the man he began his questioning.

"You will answer my questions and you will tell me the full truth to each question," Harry ordered, "what were you doing in the granary?"

"Seeking to sabotage your grain supplies," the man said, his voice sounding like a drone.

Harry moved on to his next question, "Who sent you?"

"The Captain of the Havens," came the reply.

"Why are the Lords of Umbar so keen to get rid of me?" Harry was curious about the answer to this one because as far as he was aware he had not done too much to justify the lengths they were going to in order to remove him.

The spy hesitated as if thinking of the best way to word his answer, "there has been rumblings in the Interior, coming from the desert clans and among the Haradrium. Someone has been preaching that you are sent by the gods to liberate them from their Númenórean overlords."

Harry looked at both Malak and Alatar to see if they had heard of these rumours before but they both shook their head. It troubled Harry because if people were using him as a figure head for a revolt then when the revolts failed he would be the one who was seen as responsible.

"What has happened to the High Priest at Umbar?" Malak asked.

There had been a disturbing lack of news coming from their normally regular supporter in the High Priest, he had been feeding them almost constant news about the state of affairs in Umbar until almost two months ago when the letters had stopped.

"He encouraged a riot in Umbar two months ago," the man said emotionlessly, "and was executed, the temple burnt to the ground and all its inhabitants were eradicated."

Malak took a step back as if he had been hit before utter fury overtook both him and the rest of the Serpent Guard. Even Alatar looked slightly surprised at the extreme reaction of Black Númenóreans. Harry however looked slightly contemplatively.

"For them to take such an extreme measure, they must be very afraid of a revolt," Harry said slowly, "and they're afraid of the revolts because they know that they will be toppled and me put in their place."

He thought for another couple of moments, "how many of you spies are there in Jaffa?"

"Four," the man replied, "besides myself there are four others."

Harry motioned forward Malak's second in command, "talk him and find the others, bring them to me alive and then put all five of them in the cells."

"Your Grace," the guardsman bowed, before ordering his men to take the prisoner away.

Waiting until they were out of the door, Harry turned to Malak, "this business of spies worries me, for I fear in this area we are totally outclassed. I think we need to set up a little network of our own, based here in Jaffa with spies spread throughout the whole of Harad."

"It will be a big operation," Malak said cautiously.

"Yes, yes it would," Alatar agreed, "but the potential benefits would be vast, after all we would know nothing of these uprisings if it was not for our lucky capture of the spy. In addition such an organisation could be used to hunt down enemy spies here in Jaffa itself. What are you thinking of?"

"There is an old forge workshop out in the main city," Harry said thoughtfully, "which has a tunnel that leads out of the city walls into one of the tombs. It would be a perfect way to get into the city should the gates be watched and the forge is inconspicuous enough to be their headquarters."

Malak grunted, "I know the place and the tunnel, it is as you say. Furthermore an operating forge would be good cover for operations."

"What about the spies themselves?" Alatar asked, "I admit to having little expertise in this subject myself."

Harry thought back to the few spy films that he had watched, "the first group would obviously be paid informers, but they will not be part of the organisation nor need training. Apart from that spies and I suppose assassins will be the two groups of agents that would need to be trained."

"Aye," Malak agreed, "but hitmen as well."

"How do hitmen and assassins differ?" Alatar asked.

Malak explained, "assassins are for jobs that need to be subtle and look like an accident or are refined types of murders. Hitmen on the other hand are for muggings and ambushes, either to get information, captives or eliminate enemies. We will need all three."

A servant came up to Harry and started to whisper in his ear and the other two men waited until their king was ready before continuing on with the list. Harry nodded thoughtfully, the servant had brought important news that needed dealt with.

"Malak," Harry said, "can you arrange the purchase of the forge, make it look discreet before finding the start of the personnel, I want utter and unconditional loyalty from every single one."

With that Harry swept out of the council chambers and followed the servant along the corridors and up the stairs in the direction of the top of the palace. He had a meeting to attend, and it was an important one.

"Are they all here?" Harry asked the Serpent Guard who had been stationed to stand outside the room.

The man nodded, "yes my lord, the young one and two of his accomplices. The young one was being particularly loud mouthed about when you would meet them. I should warn Your Grace that I don't think he plans on being very polite."

"No matter," Harry replied calmly, "I didn't count on him being so."

The guardsman nodded and opened the door allowing Harry to enter. The room was a lot darker than the last time it had been when Harry had been inside, and there sitting around the same table that he and Jermiah had shared not a week ago was another set of men. Men with very different ideas that the Regent of Akmunsa.

"Gentlemen, lords," Harry said, entering the room, "I am sorry to have kept you waiting for so long!"

Various people around the room nodded politely in response. He knew a couple of them from sight only, having met them before but the majority of them were unknown to him. Malak had had them checked over and none of them bore any weapons so he was fairly certain that he was safe among them. Besides they needed something out of him.

"Stuff the pleasantries, Potter!" a young voice came, "so what's your demands?"

Harry sighed, "I see you haven't got any politer since we last met, Castamir."

"Forgive my eager companion," one of the other men said stiffly, "but we have come as agreed and we must discuss our deal to rid this world of the Tyrant."

"So we must!" Harry agreed.

* * *

**AN: Just been watching a load of the old James Bonds and I realised that there was no way that I could not give Harry his own MI6, they are going to be fun to play with. **

**Coming up next chapter: what Harry is plotting with Castamir, Harry's wedding (perhaps) and some other stuff.**

**T Horn**


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: Sorry for a very long absence but there have been numerous changes of plot and other distractions with which to deal with and so this chapter took ages to write. **

* * *

Chapter 14

Harry had marched his men at a pace faster than many thought was necessary or even possible, but he knew better. He had to get to Akmunsa as soon as he could with the army, that was the plan and, although the plan had changed, all it did was make the need all the more urgent.

Jermiah was dead, fallen to his son's own blade along with numerous others. His murderers had set themselves up as the new rulers of Akmunsa, bringing back the old Black Númenórean councils, but they feared the populace and so needed troops. Umbar would provide none but Harry would.

_Flashback a month_

"_So you plan to overthrow and murder my future father-in-law and you want my help," Harry stated carefully, "which leaves me with only one question, why should I help you against an ally of mine?"_

_Castamir scoffed and was about to say something when one of the older men put a hand on his back and silenced him, before looking carefully at Harry, leaving the King of Jaffa in no doubt as to who was the major player behind this plot._

_The man in question looked like a half-Haradrium, half Númenórean. A perfect compromise Harry thought speculatively to himself, he wondered whether the man's comrades were aware of the danger that he posed. He was the sort of man who would be loath to release any power once he had held it, of that Harry was sure._

"_It would be difficult to argue against it," the man said, "were Jermiah your ally, and were there a lack of better ones. However neither of them are true."_

_Harry inclined his head, motioning for the man to continue._

"_Jermiah is a scorpion, trusting nobody, willing to betray everybody," the man continued, "and if we succeed then you will still have Akmunsa as an ally, with Umbar and the rest of Harad with it."_

_Harry nodded, he needed little persuading to convince him to get rid of Jermiah. Indeed it can be said that it was something that he had been planning since he had heard the rumours of the atrocities being committed there. Whilst he might in Middle Earth that did not stop some of the morals from his previous life from creeping into him._

"_How are you planning to do it?" he asked quietly._

"_Assassination," Castamir butted in, "we have someone on the inside, after that we take control of the city."_

_Harry nodded thoughtfully, "and then what do you need me for?"_

"_Troops," the other man replied, "whilst we think that the people will make no noise at the takeover, I want to be certain and so we were hoping that you could provide some men, not an army but enough to keep the peace."_

_Harry raised his eyebrows, that sounded like a repeat of something. Glancing around he saw that many of the conspirators, including Castamir, were not happy with involving Harry or Jaffa in the plot but their leader had forced it through._

"_Why won't Umbar provide them?" Harry asked._

_The lord sighed, "because they are too busy lining themselves up for the appointments of Captain of the Havens and Lord of the Mustering which are to happen within the month. And of course because of the way politics goes they need every man there possible."_

_Ah, Harry just had to pause and appreciate the subtleness of Haradrium politics, the man with the most men wins. Though of course that was not always the case, assassination, blackmail and threats also played their parts._

"_I will do it," Harry said thinking on his feet, "but before I have some demands of my own."_

_The man nodded, "that is not unexpected. We will listen to your terms but we cannot promise to agree to them."_

_Harry rose and looked out of the window, thinking for a moment before he turned back to them, "I want reassurances that no word of my part in the venture will be made public, should you go down I have to wish to go down with you."_

_A couple of men nodded, it was a fair enough demand._

"_As well as that I would like two corsair ships, fully crewed and with their wages paid for a year," Harry continued, "to arrive before the mission goes ahead and finally the return to Jaffarian hands of the villages of Sahfir and Hyhad."_

_There were murmurs of discontent at the handover of the villages but Harry knew that they would agree. After all both sides knew that as soon as the Black Númenóreans were back in control of Akmunsa there would most likely be war again and so the handover of a few villages which could be easily taken back was a small sacrifice._

_The man rose and held out his hand, "it is agreed then?"_

_Harry clasped it, "agreed!"_

_End Flashback_

That had been a month ago and since then Harry's new corsair ships had arrived in the harbour at Jaffa and every carpenter and mason in the city was busy getting it up to scratch as the ships sailed away again immediately to go raiding Gondor, though not before Harry had put a tracking charm on the keels of the ship secretly, corsairs were notoriously unreliable and tied to a map back in the palace it meant that he would be able to keep an eye on where they were. His newly formed Secret Service was busy working on finding out whom among the crew were spies and who they were spying for.

But now the army was on the march to Akmunsa, Harry had left three days before the day when the assassination attempt had been planned to happen with over four hundred men, drawn mostly from the nomadic tribes whom he had promised new bounds of freedom in their wanderings. Because of this they were mostly mounted which meant they could cover the ground much more quickly. Also along with them rode half of Harry's Serpent Guard, who would form his bodyguard on the battlefield should it turn into that.

The reason for the rush was because of word that had reached Malak through some old friends of his in Umbar which said that a rumour that Harry was supporting Castamir and his comrades had reached some of the lords of Umbar and a couple of them had put together an army that was marching on Akmunsa as Malak received news of it. The Jaffarians needed to get to Akmunsa before the army from Umbar did or else there would be no guarantee that the Black Númenóreans would hold up their side of the bargain.

Fortunately as the army looked over the plains before the city there was no sight of any over army camped there, nor had any of their more out riding scouts reported any dust clouds of the kind that were normally thrown up by large armies in Harad.

"The city gates are opening," Malak pointed out.

Sure enough when Harry turned he saw that his second in command was right, the main gate of the city had opened and a single rider was ridden forth in their direction.

"That will a messenger telling us to go back home," Harry stated sourly.

It took a couple of minutes for the horseman to reach them but when he did Harry saw that he was clad in the livery of Jermiah's family and so therefore it could be presumed that it was from Castamir. Harry idly wondered how insulting the boy was going to be on this occasion, it was strange to think that his immature future brother-in-law was older than Harry was by a matter of years for the way he acted made him look a lot younger.

"My lord Harry," the messenger began.

Malak growled, "you will address His Grace by his rightful rank, I pray or else I will have to teach you the meaning of politeness."

"Forgive me, Your Grace," the man apologised nervously, "I have a message from Lord Castamir, newly appointed to the Council of Akmunsa."

"And was does my Lord Castamir say?" Harry asked mildly.

The man looked nervous again, "Lord Castamir asked me to bid you welcome and thanks you for your help, but he says it is no longer needed as men from Umbar are due to arrive later today. He bides you turn around and go back to Jaffa."

Whispers began to creep back through his ranks and Harry knew he was in trouble, he had to talk to Castamir to make sure that the details of their agreement would still be upheld or else he would have trouble with his men, the men from the nomadic tribes in particular who had been granted rights that Harry could only give if the agreement was upheld.

"I have a need to talk to Lord Castamir," Harry said lightly, "besides I need to ensure that your end of the bargain is held."

The man bowed, "very well Your Grace, I will return and bring word to the lords of the council."

"No need," Harry said, "I will come in with you and talk to them personally!"

Malak looked appalled, "my lord it is too dangerous, they can't be trusted they are Akmunsans!"

If the messenger was insulted, he did not show it but instead waited for Harry to make his decision.

"You better hope it won't be dangerously," Harry smiled, "you are coming in with me, along with a hundred of my men. Will that be enough to allay your fears, my dear Malak?"

His second in command sighed, "no, but I know you well enough to known that I can't change your mind so might as well come along to make sure you don't hurt yourself too badly."

The messenger meanwhile had paled, "my lord, I mean Your Grace, do you need to take so many men with you into the city?"

"Of course," Harry replied calmly, "I am a king and as such I require a good escort. Besides I have heard rumours of unrest among the people and I don't trust your lord with my safety so I will bring my own men."

The man nodded reluctantly, he was only a commoner and Harry was quite right when he said that he was entitled to his retinue. A hundred men was big enough to allow Harry the rank and custom he was allowed but small enough that the messenger knew they could be quickly defeated by the Akmunsan army should the need arise.

"I will bring my Serpent Guard," Harry said to Malak, "as well as that the Burning Sands tribesmen, that should number around a hundred. The rest will camp here until we return. Pass the message on."

The Burning Sands were one of the largest nomadic tribes sworn to Harry and one of the more experienced in military terms, having been engaged in numerous tribal wars with other tribes as well as some of the city states that had been foolish enough to try and impede their movement through their lands.

The company formed up with Harry and Malak at the head, surrounded by the Serpent Guard with the tribesmen following behind. The contrast between the two was so different in looks, the Serpent Guard in their golden armour and red cloth robes, whilst the Burning Sands were dressed in sheepskin and at best boiled leather armour. That said both were brutally efficient at their job.

Akmunsa was little different from what Harry remembered, at least in terms of looks, much of the buildings were the same and although there were some signs of damage on some of them from the various conflicts in the city you had to look hard to find them. However it was impossible for Harry not to notice the change in the people; whereas before he had been beset by children flocking on the road and playing in the streets, now any children that he saw were quickly hurried inside by haggard looking parents or else fleeing at the sight of armed men. They were not the only ones that had changed; the adults seemed more cautious, weary and suspicious. All in all it was not a nice atmosphere to be in.

"They fight with the kinslayer," Harry could hear them mutterings and that set him deep into thought.

The people of Akmunsa were obviously not happy with the change of leadership, Harry imagined that it was not because they liked Jermiah, he had for all intents and purposes been a brutal and vicious ruler. No the objection must come from the way that the coup had happened, with the murder of one someone by a relative, kinslaying. To the Haradrium and Black Númenóreans alike there was little worse crime than that of murdering a relative, especially one as close as a man's father. He had thought that perhaps Castamir might have the sense to not do it himself, but he obviously hadn't.

Harry wondered if there was any way to salvage the situation without having to deploy his men as protection against the mob. Right now the best he could hope was that he managed to get the deal he had been promised and would be outside of the city before the retaliation kicked off. Though Harry thought that he might be able to take some advantage of the situation should a civil war or a series of uprisings break up.

He kicked his horse forward, ignoring the looks that were coming from the faces of the people around him. Feeling eyes on the back of his head, he turned round to look at Malak who nodded his head in the direction of the looks they were receiving and raised his eyebrow. Harry received the hint he was trying to get, his heartbeat rising slightly he nodded. Why not?

It was the market square that they were met by Castamir and his fellow conspirators. The same market place where not a year earlier he had first met Castamir and his father, when on a mission here from Jaffa and since then the circumstances had changed so much.

He was met with a bloodied knife. The blade that had been used to kill Jermiah was in Castamir's hand and Harry had to wonder what the symbolism was in that, was it a threat or was it a welcome to a fellow conspirator? Harry suspected that it was not the latter.

Looking around Harry looked in wonder as he saw the distinct lack of armed men around them, were the conspirators so secure in their victory already that they felt there was no need to be surrounded by soldiers? The other issue was why were they not there when there should have been an attempt on Harry's life, it would be the sensible thing to do to get rid of a charismatic leader from the neighbouring city state when he is within their grasp. Sure he had army outside but Harry was willing a bet that the cleverer and more politically astute among the returning elite of Akmunsa would have realised that his army was mostly made up of the nomadic tribes people and so held no loyalty to Harry directly and would disperse when word of his death reached them. All Harry's wonderings left him with the question, if the Akmunsan army was not here then where was it?

The crowd in front of Harry and his men parted and Harry rode over to where Castamir and his supporters were standing raised upon a platform in the centre of the old market place. Harry estimated there were around twenty nobles standing there around Castamir, with around thirty bodyguards in total. Dismounting Harry walked over to Castamir, pausing just out of sword's reach.

Harry knew that he would have to spin this carefully, when he had conceived this plot to get rid of Jermiah he had never considered the hatred that was held towards a kinslayer. That made Castamir's position untenable which did not particularly worry Harry but rather that were it to be proved that Harry had any part to play in his future father-in-law's death then so would his own.

"I was on my way to have some words with Lord Jermiah about news I had received about an impending rebellion," Harry said, "when I heard news of his assassination at the hands of his own son. Now I find you here before me with my future father-in-law's blood all over your blade, it is hardly the welcome I had been anticipating!"

Castamir looked confused as did most of the other nobles, but Harry was certain that those who were older and more experienced might have had an idea what was going on.

"My father was a tyrant!" Castamir said uneasily.

"That he was," Harry agreed, "but he was also your father, which makes you a kinslayer. You slew my ally and my betrothed's fahter, and I am sworn to her to avenge him."

Castamir's eyes widen and he tried to back away from Harry desperately but Harry moved before he could, drawing his sword in one fluid motion and bringing it across the kinslayer's stomach, slitting it open and dealing him a blow that would kill him slowly. Castamir slipped to knees, his hands desperately trying to hold his entrails in, he was now no more a worry to Harry.

The one who was, however, was the man who had been responsible for much of the negotiating with Harry back in Jaffa. He saw what Harry was doing and desperately tried to rally men to their cause, but there was no will left to fight in them. The Akmunsans had seen loss on the battlefield, followed by one of their own taking control by force and violently forcing submission through brutal putdowns of revolts only to be violently assassinated by his own son.

They were tired of the bloodshed and had no wish to fight. The games of the great lords and the issue over who ruled them was of little concern to the average man and woman, all they wanted was cheap bread and relative safety, caring little for the games of power. So they stood and watched as the assassins were slaughtered before their eyes.

Harry was in his element, having changed his sword for his staff which he was now wielding with great purpose, destroying any who got in his way as he fought his way over to neutralise the threat he could see developing. The Akmunsan noble had gathered those who were left and willing to fight and was trying to force them into formation as Harry and his Serpent Guard fell on them.

The tribesmen were fighting off to the side, led by their own commanders and Malak who was keeping a careful eye on them to make sure that they stayed under control. Harry had no wish for them to start looting and raping, that would only serve to turn the people of the city against them.

"Milord," Harry heard Malak's shout from across the square, "archers on the walls!"

Harry spun round and saw that the walls which previously had been empty were filling as Akmunsan soldiers desperately rushed from their barracks and armouries and took their places along the walls, with their elevated view over the market place below them. Already Harry could see bows being strung and arrows fitted onto strings, should they start to intervene then Harry and his men would be quickly cut down by arrows coming from archers they could not reach.

A moan signalling the last of the dispatching of the nobles in the market square and for a moment a hush settled, as the archers on the wall hesitated for a moment as they saw their leaders lying dead and without leadership were wondering what to do. Suddenly an arrow came whizzing by Harry's ears and moments later more begun to fall, some of them striking flesh either that of men alive or else those who were already dead. Already Harry could see the first of his men falling and the slaughter about to begin.

"Hold!" Harry shouted, desperately hoping for his order to be obeyed.

Once again they hesitated but this time, to his surprise they did as he ordered, lowering their bows but keeping their arrows on their strings and keeping their eyes firmly fixed upon the group of Jaffarians. Satisfied that he was not about to be shot in the back Harry walked over to where Castamir was on his knees, clutching at his belly.

"Castamir," he proclaimed, "in the name of Lady Josephine of Akmunsa I hereby find you guilty of treason, murder and kinslaying. You are sentenced to death by the sword, to be carried out forthwith. Any last words?"

Castamir glared at Harry defiantly, "fuck you!"

With a shrug Harry swept down his sword and the head of Josephine's brother fell to the ground with a thud followed moments later by his headless trunk. Harry cleaned his sword on an Akmunsan body before looking over the scene in the market, around thirty bodies laid scattered out over the cobbles the majority of them Akmunsans with a couple of Harry's tribesmen in there as well. The inhabitants of the city, regarded the sight from huddled street corners none of them willing to come any closer whilst the rooftops and walls were still filled with archers gripping their bows uncertain as to their next course of action.

"Akmunsans," Harry bellowed, turning to survey those who watched, "those who have called themselves your rulers and oppressed you for hundreds of years have now gone, either as a result of your civil war or of their own kinslaying. Now you must choose a ruler for yourself."

"Were I another man," Harry continued, "I would claim the rule of Akmunsa through right of conquest, but I am not other men. We in Jaffa have seen what happens when one city tries to impose its rule on another, pain and suffering is all it causes and I would not have that happen on my watch. Akmunsans should only be ruled by an Akmunsan, just as a Jaffarian should only be ruled by another Jaffarian."

There were mutterings of agreement coming from the crowd, they knew that Jaffa had suffered under Akmunsa control and they both had suffered under rule from Umbar and indirectly Mordor. That would not have been a good point for someone to point out that Harry was not actually from Jaffa, but either they kept silence or people did not know. For all intents and purposes Harry was Jaffarian, it was the first place in Middle Earth he had called his home.

"For that reason, I make no claim on rule in Akmunsa," Harry said, "for I have no right to it, but there is one who does. My betrothed is an Akmunsan noblewoman, born of the Tyrant but uninvolved in the civil wars and uprisings. She is young, clever, compassionate and wise beyond her years, and would make a good ruler fully supported by Jaffa and myself. Together we can unite Jaffa and Akmunsa, not through force but through peaceful means without bloodshed. Yet it is your choice, as citizens of your city."

Josephine was not many of the nice things that Harry had called, sure she was young and quite clever but Harry would never describe her as wise or compassionate, but that was what was expected and so it was what he said. Harry was banking on the matter that he was giving them a choice, some freedom over the issue and so in repayment and in recognition of this they would instinctively throw their plot with him.

"What about Umbar?" came a shout from the crowd.

In was a good question and one that Harry was already thinking about how best to proceed in terms of unified Jaffan-Akmunsan empire, would he continue to oppose Umbar or would he humbly bow his head?

"I will make my peace with Umbar," Harry said, "I will apologise for the mistakes that have lead me into conflict with them and then they shall do likewise, resolving the dispute. After that Umbar will lift its sanctions and then we can start to repair the damage caused by recent events."

Harry knew that it would take a lot more than a simple apology to convince Umbar to lift its sanctions, but an apology he would have to make to start the talks and Harry knew that it would not be a pleasant experience, indeed it would be very humbling and Harry was starting to grow proud in his achievements and was as willing to accept a humiliation as he once was.

"And what will your army do if we say no?" the commander of the archers on the wall asked calmly, "will you and they simply walk away and leave us to ourselves?"

"Of course," Harry said, "though as to leaving you to yourselves, well I would rather continue to maintain our good relations and so I would ask your new ruler for a series of talks and treaties."

Unfortunately Harry knew that if this were to go against him then there was very little chance that he would be able to take the city. An outright attack would be sure to fail and he did not have time for sustained siege because of the approaching Umbarian army. Besides were he to take the city after promising them a free choice, well that would be a sure path to rebellion and revolution.

"What is your decision?" Harry asked, "and more to the point will you stop pointing those arrows at me?"

With that he looked up at the archers on the wall. Harry already knew who it was that he needed to persuade and so he transfixed the commander of the archers on the wall. This man seemed to be the only remaining commander of men within the city and had the men at hand, it would be to him that the populace would turn to when it came to making the decision. A moment later the man looked away and barked an order, lowering his own weapon to be followed moments later by all of his men.

"I recognise the Lady Josephine as Lady of Akmunsa," the man said stiffly, "and urge others to do the same."

That was how Harry became the Consort Lord of Akmunsa, or rather would become upon his wedding to the now newly proclaimed Lady of Akmunsa.

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Next Chapter : A wedding, an army, a dream and then a marriage proposal.

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**AN: Right that's done, I have been trying to plan how this would happen for a couple of chapters before deciding that this might be the best way to remove Jermiah and place Josephine (and Harry) in his place.**

**On another note, at some point I am going to do a rewrite of this, not changing anything too major plotwise, rather instead fix the writing side of it as I have matured as a writer even since I started this and there are some inconsistences that I think need fixed. So if there is anything that you think I ought to change please leave in a review or PM me (for example I am thinking of changing Josephine's name, so any ideas for that would be welcome)**


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: The Haradrium story of creation and of their version of a marriage ceremony I have taken from a whole variety of different cultures, taking little pieces from each. Also I decided to move everything on a little.**

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Chapter 15

Softly as the fluttering of the wind in the trees, the snake like voice whispered into his ear as he slept.

_The Sword that was broken shall be reforged,_

_In Imladris where is dwells,_

_There new enemies shalt thou meet, _

_To pay for new counsels taken there._

_Beware for Isildur's Bane has woken, beware for Mordor's power grows,_

_Choices must be made, battles fought and a dog found._

_Time it is for the Serpent to rise, forged in battle_

_Before white, white walls._

Harry sat bolt upright, sweat pouring down his body and onto the silken sheets. He quickly rose and threw on a robe, hurrying as quickly as possible over to the small desk in the corner of the room before the words imprinted on his mind vanished with the last vestiges of sleep.

Scrawling them down quickly upon a piece of paper, Harry left the room quickly and headed out of the room and down the corridors in the warren's nest that was the palace at Jaffa. The whole place was crowned with decorations and all-around servants were hurrying to throw up decorations and ornaments.

Tomorrow, or rather today it would be now, was the day that Harry had been dreading, today he would be getting married. It was fortunate that he had not had to fight after the acclamation at Akmunsa as the army from Umber, unable to deal with the combined forces of the two cities was forced to retreat back to the capital. Since then Josephine had been in Akmunsa, keeping the ritual three weeks isolation from her future husband in mourning for her lost childhood as was custom, whilst Harry had returned to Jaffa to ensure that everything was ready.

Currently the elite of Akmunsa, who had arrived late last evening, where either camped outside the city or else in the lower city where there was still some housing spare which they had occupied.

"Your Grace," squeaked a surprised servant, "is there anything I could do for you, milord?"

"Where is the wizard?" Harry asked, rushed.

The servant looked around, "I believe he is in the council chambers, Your Majesty, though forgive me if I am wrong for I am not certain."

"Won't matter," Harry said shortly hurrying off.

He was wondering what this dream meant, was it a prophecy? Or perhaps the hissed tone of the snake which said indicated that it came from the gods? More important was the mention of a dog, that could only be Sirius and Harry would go to where ever this Imladris place was just to go and get him, no matter about any of the other things that were said.

Sure enough the servant was right and Harry found Alatar deep in conversation with several servants in the Council Chambers. All of them looked up in surprise when they saw Harry approaching, the servants quickly excusing themselves with hurried bows leaving Harry and his chief advisor alone. Wordlessly Harry passed him the piece of paper, which the wizard read carefully. Harry watched his expression and saw his eyebrows raise several times.

"Imladris," Alatar murmured to himself, "it has been a long time since I have heard that name."

"You know where it is?" Harry asked unsurprised.

"Yes," Alatar said, "it is also known as Rivendell and is the home of Elrond Halfelven, the greatest of the remaining elven lords. It is many hundreds of leagues from here, beyond Gondor and then beyond the land of Rohan. Indeed I do not know the exact location of it, for where my brothers chose to remain with the elves I chose to come straight here via Rhun and so have little knowledge of the northern lands."

Harry frowned he had hoped that perhaps Imladris would be a bit closer, he was not sure if he would be able to go watched as he most likely would be, for such a journey would take at least a year to get there and back and he probably could not go missing for such a long time.

"What about this Sword that was broken and Isildur's Bane," Harry asked, considering his options, "do they mean anything to you?"

Alatar frowned, "the sword is not one I know anything about, there have been many broken swords in tales but not one that springs to mind. As for Isildur's Bane, well I could guess but I would scarcely believe my guess to be true, and I would not dare speak of it here."

"Should I go?" Harry asked.

The wizard sighed, "I don't believe you have the choice, that dream came from the gods and whichever one it was, meant for you to go and who are we to reject the demands of the gods. Furthermore if I am right with my guess that you want to be there for this counsel, for whatever result it comes to will forever change Middle Earth. And I believe if my interpretation of the bit about the dog is right then it is referring to your godfather, the one who can turn into a dog."

Harry nodded, "that is what I thought, the only problem is that I cannot just go and disappear for a year or more when Umbar is ready to strike."

"Why not?" Alatar asked, "if you were, for example, to simply declare that you are going on pilgrimage to one of the Holy Shrines then you are protected by the laws of all Harad, including Umbar. They would not dare to attack Jaffa or Akmunsa if the gods have called you to their service."

"Can you be certain of that?" Harry asked sceptically.

Alatar nodded firmly and Harry sighed, it looked like he was going on a long journey then. Now not only did he have a wedding to go through with but he also needed to start preparing for what was most certainly the longest trip he had ever gone on. Dismissing Alatar he began to mentally plan his next move.

The wedding was in the morning and there was nothing that he could do to move that, in addition it would be expected for him to stay at least a week in Jaffa after the wedding night in order to increase the probability that he would be landed with a child, something he was most certainly sure he did not want, particularly at this moment in time. All in all that meant that the earliest departure time would be in at least a week's time and possibly longer, depending on how long it took to sort out all that needed to be arranged here before he left.

Harry returned to his rooms where he grabbed a slightly ragged cloak and stepped out of one of the back doors of the palace into the cool night air. It was one of the things that he had come to appreciate late at night, standing out on his balcony over the city enjoying the beautifully fresh night air, something he had never experience. Surrey was too polluted and the air could never be called fresh, whilst Hogwarts far up in Scotland as it was very rarely cool instead of freezing cold.

Hurrying through the streets in the direction of the main city gate, Harry stopped a street before the gate and went over to one of the doors. Knocking hard he waited for a moment for the door to be opened before he stepped inside. Inside was a blacksmith's shop with a huge forge in one corner and a variety of smithy tools arranged around the walls.

The man who answered the door was a huge man who resembled a wall of sheer muscle, he had arms the size of tree trunks from a lifetime spend with a hammer at the anvil and he most certainly was not someone to mess around with.

"Just going to go through the back if that is alright with you?" Harry said.

The man nodded and stepped aside. They were all under strict orders not to address him by his title when greeting him not until they were in the back room because the walls of this poorer section of town were thin and doors were thinner and so sound could travel. Harry wanted nobody to know what this was.

Going over to the huge water basin, a barrel sawn in half which was fixed to the ground and used to dunk the red hot metal in, Harry pulled the plug out of the side allowing the water to drain out of it. Once the water was gone and the bare wooden base was revealed Harry knocked twice on it, before pulling it up on a secret handle to reveal a hole in the floor with a ladder in it.

The hole was the blacksmith's old well and the water butt had been built over it to conceal its entrance. Down the well was the headquarters of Harry's spy network, his own MI6, known by its provisional name of GIS, the General Intelligence Service. He had plans for several smaller side agencies to specialise in particular things but there was no time for that now and so those plans would have to be put on hold for the moment.

Climbing down the ladder Harry was met by several men after which he followed them through a door into a circular room. In that room there was a round table, Harry motioned for the men to take a seat. There were four of them in total in that council, three and Harry.

Those three were three of the four captains of GIS, and its head. Each had a particular field and eight agents directly beneath him as well as access to a network of informers. The four captains were each in charge of a different role though often they came together to work on a particular job, the four were; internal security, external affairs, assassination and propaganda.

Harry had arranged that a pipe that led from one of the sinks in his personal bathroom be adjusted so that it end up down here. That way a small metal ball with a message inside could be flushed down the pipe to the headquarters without Harry having to visit in person or send a message, which could be helpful should he or the base be being watched. This had allowed him to call a meeting of the captains for internal security, propaganda and external affairs, which as normal was joined by the head of the service, an ex-Serpent Guardsmen called Shaan.

"Right I have called this meeting," Harry said quietly, "first to receive a status report and secondly to discuss another matter, but on to the first. How far have we got with the spies in the city?"

At this point the captain for internal security leaned forward, this was his subject and his responsibility. Carefully taking out a piece of paper he passed it to each of the men around the table.

"As you can see this paper contains a list of known spies within the city," the captain said, "we will decide whether or not to neutralise them on a case by case basis, depending on whether or not we can get away with it and how dangerous they are."

Harry glanced down the list and was pretty unsurprised by what he saw, from the look of it there was a grand total of around fifty foreign spies in the city, the majority of which were mere informers although there were a couple who had been upgraded to the status of collaborators.

"There were two known spies among the corsairs," the man continued, "one we have managed to seduce to becoming a double agent, the other will be having an accident at sea on their next voyage. That has already been arranged with the captain."

"You keeping track on this double agent?" Harry clarified, "to make sure that he actually has turned?"

The captain nodded, "of course. As for the three agents in the palace we thought we would allow two of them to keep on going as they are, the ones who work in the palace kitchens fishing for gossip. They are not dangerous and we can use them to feed false information should it be required. The other though we thought about sending his head to his masters, serve as a warning."

Harry agreed and they spent a further hour going through the list and deciding the fate of each man. The majority were allowed to continue on going as they were but more than a few would suffer a terrible accident whilst two it had been decided would be publically executed for treason, an army captain and one of the harbour guards who was responsible for smuggling in spies and other unwanted items.

"What is the second matter you wished to discuss?" Shaan said, when they had finished the list.

"Last night I had a vision," Harry begun, "spoken in the language of snakes, telling me to go far to the north and find the sword that was broken as well as telling me that the Serpent would rise in a battle before white walls."

"White walls," the captain for external affairs interrupted, "the walls of Minas Tirith, the capital of Gondor are said to be of white stone. And the battle before Minas Tirith, there are rumours from the north that the Eye is planning a great strike against Gondor."

There was a couple of moments of silence as each person digested this new piece of information. Harry had already known that the white walls probably referred to Minas Tirith, that much Alatar had told him, but the news of a strike from Mordor was news to him. He had supposed when going over the message that it was referring to an army that he would lead north from Harad, but now he was not so sure. It would also explain the bit about choices; if an army was coming from Mordor, then he would have to decide whether or not to side with it or against it.

"If it came in the form of the language of the snake," Shaan said slowly, "then it can only have come from Sol Draconis himself, and therefore you must go."

"But what of Umbar?" one of the captains objected, "they will surely attack when they hear that His Grace is not here."

"Alatar came up with an idea for that," Harry said turning to the Captain for Propaganda, "he suggested that perhaps I would say I am going on a pilgrimage deep into the desert, on a mission for Sol Draconis in order to have my marriage blest by the gods. He thought that the lords of Umbar would be either to superstitious to attack or too afraid that their army would be so."

The captain nodded, "that could work, I could have my agents spread the message among the army that should stop them marching, although I cannot do much to prevent the lords, should they be so willing, forcing the army to march through threats and bribes big enough to override their superstition."

"It is decided then," Shann, "His Grace will go north and we shall prevent an attack on Jaffa while he is away."

*********The Traveller********

Before the sun was fully up Harry along with the rest of the men, who would be attending the ceremony, filed into the temple of Tel-Danith, God of Night and Death. The women would be rushed into the temple of Selena, Goddess of the Moon and Water, the wife of Tel-Danith. Everything had to be carefully arranged so that there would be no chance of the bride meeting the groom before the ceremony as such a meeting was considered the sign of a doomed marriage by both Haradrium and Black Númenóreans.

The temple of Tel-Danith was amazing beautiful in the morning sun that was just becoming to creep in through the narrow windows that were made to let in as small an amount of light as possible. The effect of the dawn light reflecting off the black marble, imported from far to the south, highlighting the glistening rock was somewhat eerie.

The custom was for the men and the woman to hold separate services in each of their respective temples from the time of dawn to midday, when they would come together in an large open area that was traditionally built between the two, in the case of Jaffa the large market square which had been cleared of its respective stalls for the day.

The High Priest of Tel-Danith in Jaffa begun the tale of the creation, how in ancient times beyond the knowledge of even the elves and their false gods was a giant, with the name of Emir. His job was to hold up the sky which in those days overlooked nothing but a huge ocean. He was one of a long series of giants, each who spawned from the bodies of their predecessors. As each died from the weight of their burden, he fell to the bottom of the ocean and another rose in his place. However by the time that Emir had been spawned and taken up his role holding up the sky, the deep sea had become filled up with the bodies of giants that when Emir died the top of his body was above the level of sea. And this according to Haradrium was the way the land had come into being.

As the giant's body had decomposed his hair had turned into forests, his belly had become plains and the higher bits of his body, such as his toes, forehead and knees, became mountain ranges. Because his body was above water it still retained its function of holding the sky up and so no new giant was born, instead the mountain tops bore the load, slowly levelling under the weight of the sky. However as the giant's manhood decomposed, three beings were born from it. One leapt up into the sky, one fell down into the water and the last seeing his brother high up in the heavens, hide from his eyes in the shade of a mountain.

The one that leapt into the sky became Sol, God of the Heavens and the Sun God, with his sacred place being the deserts where his power leaves men as mere insects in comparison. Various desert birds are said to be sacred to him; the jackal, the scorpion, the snake and the vulture. The waterborn was Selena, who took on the form of the Moon so she could watch over the earth as her brother slept. Tel-Danith was the god that ruled from the shade of the mountains in the time that his brother, Sol, was in the sky but at night his power was supreme.

The first thousand years of their rule was called the Golden Age, where night and day worked together to watch over the earth and ensure that no more giants would again walk on earth, for it had been foretold that one day they would once more. But after centuries of waiting there was no sign of any giant resurrection and strife began to creep among the three. Sol as the oldest declared that he held priority over Tel-Danith when it came to their sister's hand in marriage, however his siblings had gotten close in their time alone with each other between sunset and sunrise.

The conflict between the two brothers saw the emergence of the twilight at the end of the day, Tel-Danith trying to bring on the night so that he and his beloved Selena could be together whilst a jealous Sol tries to lengthen the day so as to minimise the time the lovers could spend together. And at the other end of the night, as the Sun rises, once more the brothers fight each trying to lengthen the time the world spends under his domain.

The priest continued the tale, telling of the various conflicts between night and day as each strived for their sister's hand. Harry could see some of the Black Númenóreans among the company looked bored and disinterested, not surprising considering that these gods meant nothing to them. The majority of them still held to worship of Melkor as their ancestors had for thousands of years, the only reason they themselves still held to the Haradrium form of marriage ceremony was the lack of such a practice in their own faith. That and the need that some ancient Black Númenóreans felt to connect with their subjects.

Eventually with a dramatic flourish the priest brought the tale to an end by describing the wedding ceremony of Selene and Tel-Danith, a ceremony which he explained all Haradrium weddings had been based one from that day forth. Now it was Harry's turn, playing the part of the groom. Rising he made his way to the altar and lay upon it a desert wolf which he had slain the evening before as part of the ritual.

"Lord of Night," he intoned reverently, "in memorial of your presentation of the feared werewolves to your betrothed the Moon, allowing them to become her servants. I too gift to you a wolf, so that you can present it to your wife."

It was tradition for every Haradrium groom to present Tel-Danith with a wolf, some sort of belated wedding gift in return for asking him to watch over their marriage and to take care of their family. In the temple of Selene Josephine would be doing something similar, presenting instead a bowl of food to represent her ability to feed their family.

"Accept this gift as proof of my ability to guard by family and wife from the foes that beset us," Harry prayed, "I ask you to judge me worthy of the rite of passage into manhood and call down your blessings upon my marriage."

The high priest took the offering and blest it, before calling upon the god to bring down good luck and happiness upon the couple to be wed. That was the end of the ceremony, now they just had to wait for the bells that sounded midday to be rung.

Ding, ding, ding.

The bell of the great palace bell tower were soon echoed by bells, gongs and horns around the city as every temple rang loud their bells in celebration. Harry took his place at the head of the column ready to process out of the main door of the temple and down into the market place. As the last peel of the bells ended the doors were opened by the two temple attendants, causing everyone there to shield their eyes as the glare of the midday sun burnt after the darkness of the temple of the god of the night.

As Harry stepped out of the temple, he knew that it was done now, that he was now married, not fully married admittedly for the marriage could still be annulled as two stages still had to be completed; the act of servitude and the bedding. But now lawfully he was married, from the moment he and Josephine had both emerged from out of the temple doors they were legally husband and wife.

Glimmering out from the other side of the courtyard Harry could see a column descending from the doors of the temple of Selene, led by a figure in white. As the two columns proceeded across the courtyard approaching each over, meeting in the centre of the square by the great fountain. As they met, Harry's eyes meeting Josephine's through the wedding veil she wore.

"My lord husband," she greeted him, using the old Númenórean greeting.

"My lady wife," Harry replied, returning the greeting in the same style.

Taking the small silver bowl offered to her by the maiden priestess of Selene, Josephine proceeded over to the fountain and scooped up a little of the water in the bowl before returning to where Harry was standing. Kneeling she offered the bowl to him and he raised it to his lips taking a small sip, thus continuing the ritual act of servitude. It was finished by him offering the water back to Josephine, which she politely refused as she was supposed to before completing the ritual by acquiescing after Harry pressed her to accept it.

Harry then raised her to her feet and clasp one of her hands in one of his to allow the high priest of Tel-Danith to wrap their hands together tightly with a ribbon signalling that they were now bound for life as partners.

"It is done," the priest said, stepping back, "you are now a bonded pair, bound together to the same fate for life, and beyond should the gods allow it."

In front of the gates of the palace a huge awning had been set up to shelter two thrones set beneath them on a raised platform with steps leading up to them. It was here where the bride and groom would sit to receive the well-wishers, until it was such a time as they could retire to prepare for the evening's entertainment.

Sitting on their thrones, hands still bound together it was time for them to receive their wedding gifts together, each man coming forward in turn to present his offering. The foreign dignities came first, coming from the different cities in Harad each in turn to offer their cities' gifts. From a city far to the south where the mighty Mumakil are trained Harry was gifted with a baby elephant, an elephant trainer and rider. This was not one of the Mumakil but an ordinary elephant as their dignitary said they were unsure as to whether a Mumakil would be able to survive long in this sandy environment.

Other cities were not stinting in their gifts either, for custom demanded that no matter how they felt they were obliged to send gifts nevertheless. Even in times of war, an enemy state was expected to send a gift. Another city from deep in the south sent a war horn carved from what looked like a rhino horn whilst a lot of the eastern cities, many of which lived on the main trade routes between the spice fields and the silk cultivators, sent containers of expensive spices and bolts of silk. Finally the representatives from Umbar came forward and presented Harry with a huge chest. Motioning Malak to open it the chest revealed a whole host of ornaments to Harry, but it was clear was the main purpose of the present was, a warning. For the chest contained all the religious decorations and items that came from the temple of Sol Draconis in Umbar, the one which had been sacked and had its head priest slain for trying to raise revolt among the Haradrium in Harry's name.

After the foreign it was time for the domestic lords to present their offerings; each of the major guilds in the city offered a gift of their trade for example the Guild of Cobblers presented them with two pairs of high gilded boots. Alatar between presented the pair with an assortment of different books on different types of magic that he had collected over the years.

So that was the way the afternoon went with Harry and Josephine sitting on their thrones with various people coming forward making speeches and presenting their presents. All the time under the heat of the sun and without the relief of a midday meal, for tradition had them miss it in order to be ready for the huge feast that was to follow that evening.

As dusk approached the ribbon that held their hands together was cut and Josephine begged a relief in order to go and change in preparation for the evening's feasting and dancing. With that many other people retired in order to go and get ready for the evening, allowing Harry to disappear into the gardens to get some peace for the first time that day.

As he walked among the scented flowers, Harry began to consider his journey north. He had yet to make any mention of it to Josephine and was slightly afraid by how she might react, but he knew that no matter how she took it he was going to go if there was any chance that he might find Sirius.

Alatar had decided not to accompany him, indeed it had been decided that Harry was going to go entirely by himself, it would easiest for him to totally disappear 'off on his pilgrimage' that way rather than with a company of men who were easier to track and wouldn't offer too much in the way of an advantage should it come to a fight.

Harry had been training hard ever since he had fought at the Battle of the Valley of Kings, under the direction of both Malak and Alatar. His swordsmanship had improved massively so that he was now able to hold a decent match with any of the Serpent Guard with the sole exception of Malak, who beat Harry easily every time they fought.

On his magic he had made a lot of progress, learning all he could from Alatar about how to use his staff. He had tried to experiment and use his staff to cast spells that he had learnt back at Hogwarts, but apparently that was not how the staff used and so he had had to learn a completely new spell list from the old wizard and was now quite looking forward to using it in combat. Not only that but he had tried to experiment a little with apparition, feeling that as he had been able to apparate when he had first arrived in Middle Earth to escape that arrow he would be able to do it now. Unfortunately it had not been as easy as that and although he could now apparate it was only when under threat and only happened subconsciously; he had no control over when he apparated nor the location which he appeared at.

"Your Grace, it is time for the feasting," a servant said respectfully.

Harry remembered little of the feasting or the dancing that night, all he remembered was the taste of lamb on his lips and dancing, both in the elegant manner of the Númenóreans and the slightly tribal more intimate fashion of the Haradrium. Of course as the groom he danced almost exclusively with his bride, leaving him with her scent in his nose.

Finally it came to the bedding, the part of the whole thing that he was dreading the most. Standing, Harry begged his visitors permission to retire and told them to continue feasting and drinking while he was gone. Therefore to lewd and drunken catcalls he left, flushed slightly, with Josephine's arm in his own.

As he stepped into his bedchambers he glanced around the room to make sure that everything was correctly done, anticipation and nervousness The customary sheepskin rug was on the bed, bleached white so that the blood of the breaking of Josephine's maidenhood would be clear upon on it, prove of both the fact that the deed had been done and that the bride was a virgin before her wedding night.

"Can I have a moment to get ready?" Josephine asked timidly.

When Harry nodded, not totally unable to form words nervous as he was, she smiled at him and stepping close gave him a quick kiss on the mouth. It was little more than a peck but as she stepped back both she and Harry flushed red with embarrassment.

Harry stepped out onto the balcony looking over the city to give Josephine the time she asked for. Already he could see a crowd assembling down in the courtyard below, waiting for the rug to revealed from where Harry was standing now. There were a couple of shouts when he first appeared, but they were quickly hushed by the more sensible members. More lewd comments followed but their meaning was lost by the distance and the wine that both the shouters and the listener had consumed. After a couple moments Harry thought that Josephine would have had long enough and slipped back into the room to find it empty.

"Josephine?" Harry said uncertainly, seeing no sign of her.

Whilst listening for a reply he heard a slight splash coming from the direction of his bathing room which lay off his main chambers. Cautiously opening the door Harry stepped into the room and looked around, certainly not expecting to see what he did. Josephine was in the water, completely naked, the water just covering the outlines of her breasts. When she heard him she looked up awkwardly.

"I thought that it might be a little easier this way," Josephine said rising from the water.

Harry tried not to stare, the very way her honey coloured skin, tanned from the years spend in the desert sun, glistened with water was entrancing. Already he could feel passion, desire and nature overwhelm all sense of embarrassment he had before. He could feel how uncomfortable she was as she made to cover herself with her hands, but Harry held out his hand and drew her out of the water until the two of them stood chest to chest, one clothed the other not.

Harry slowly brought his hand up and stroked her cheek, he had thought she was beautiful before but now he was physically intimated by her. Leaning in he brought his lips to hers, both inexperienced as they were. His arms slipped round her neck and he used them to pull her body flush against his own.

"You are so beautiful," Harry said huskily.

Josephine smiled at him genuinely before leaning back in to renew the kiss. They continued for several more moments before she gently pushed back against him, leaving him standing there slightly confused and disappointed.

"Let's get you out of those," she whispered again, beginning to undo his buttons.

Later that night, once they had finished and Josephine lay asleep on their bed Harry carefully got to his feet and picked up the blood-stained sheepskin coat before going over to the balcony. There, he laid it over the balcony, displaying proof that the deed had been done and that his wife had been pure before that night.

* * *

_Next time: Departures, many meetings, new friends, old enemies._

* * *

**AN: There it is Harry is married, heading off north in the next chapter. For those wondering about the timing it is April 3018, around the same time as Gandalf is telling Frodo that he has to leave the Shire with the ring. To those who will inevitably ask for an adult version of this chapter, I will do one just not on this site.**

**As for the rewrite I mentioned at the end of the last chapter, what I have decided to do is to carry on with this version on this site but any other sites I post it on will be the rewritten version.**

**T Horn**


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: Now for the first time there is an exact date for the events in this chapter, it leads up to 20****th**** June 3018, around the same time as Gandalf is arrested in Isenguard by Saruman.**

* * *

Chapter 16

_In a dream_

_Harry was standing somewhere he didn't recognise, deep in a gorge in front of a huge fortress that gleamed with an unearthly green light. The causeway that stretched in front of him went to the base of those massive walls and a pair of giant sized gates._

_As if realising that Harry's gaze had fallen upon them they started to move, opening wide to let out a group of black riders upon black mounts. They galloped out in formation, four either side in an arrowhead around one in the centre. Harry recognised them immediately, the Ringwraiths, the monsters that Harry had first met on his first day here on Middle Earth, the ultimate servants of the Dark Lord._

_Even though he was in a dream he could feel the coldness, so resembling of that of the dementors, cause him to freeze in the spot as they rode towards him. The centre Ringwraith's horse seemed to pass through his body, him being a mere shade to them much as he was in Dumbledore's pensive, both there and not there._

_He watched as the riders rode off behind him, heading out of Mordor and out into Middle Earth, the feeling of dread beginning to return to him. Just as they disappeared out of sight and the coldness with it, he felt a different sort of coldness on his chest just above his heart. This feeling begun to rouse him from the slumber in which he was caught, pulling him away from this world of dreams back into reality. However as he was drawn back to reality he heard a sibilant voice in his head._

"_Beware time is growing short!"_

* * *

Harry awoke with a start to find the object of the cold sensations he had been feeling on his chest still there in the form of the hand of his newly wed wife. The wedding had not been two days past, and Harry was still unused to waking to find another body next to his own. Of course Josephine still had a room of her own in the palace, but she was sleeping and more in his bed in those two nights since their wedding. Rumour mongers would not be finding any way to discredit him from that department.

"Are you alright, my lord husband?" Josephine asked.

"It was just a dream," Harry waved it off.

He had yet to inform her of his coming departure, not sure of the correct way of doing so without causing a row, though he suspected that whichever way he did so it would be inevitable. Glancing down he saw the sheets had slipped down Josephine's body, revealing her beautiful breasts to the cool morning air. Harry reached out and begun to caress them, then as she arched her back to press her chest forward into his hands he nuzzled at the base of his neck.

His marriage had brought on another concern, a child. Harry lived in a dangerous world, one where many men, and rulers in particular, died young through a combination of wars, disease, famine and assassinations. There while back at home it would have been normal should he have chosen to wait until he was thirty before he had children, here in Middle Earth that was not an option, he would need to have an heir by the time he was twenty. To make matters worse life expectancy had never been his strong point.

Harry pulled away as Josephine's breath begun to deepen in desire, he could not afford to spend the whole morning in bed. The issue with the Ringwraiths still concerned him, from what he knew of them they had hidden themselves away so that they could not be found. His worries must have shown on his face because his wife pulled herself up onto her elbows and looked at Harry worriedly.

"What's the matter?" Josephine asked slightly concerned.

"The Nine have left Minas Morgul," Harry replied shortly.

Josephine's eyes widen, "but they have never left the Fortress, not all of them together not for thousands of years."

"Well they have now," Harry replied grimly.

He got out of the bed and padded over to the balcony where the sun was just being to creep in as it rose above the sandy plains laid out before him. He could not help but connect the two dreams he had had, the riding forth of the Nine with the dream telling him to go to Rivendell.

"Josephine," Harry said cautiously, "this news has brought about something, something I ought to have told you a lot earlier, and I am sorry that I didn't."

His wife frowned, "what is it? What have you been hiding from me?"

"I'm leaving, well only temporarily," Harry amended quickly, "there is somewhere I ought to go, need to go rather. I'm sorry, but I can't not do this. My duty constrains me."

"Duty?" she practically spat out, "and what about your duty to your wife, the one you married not two days ago. You are willing to abandon that duty just because of a dream? One you don't even know whether it is true or not. Oh you are so firm in your duty aren't you, my lord husband?"

Harry looked abashed, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you would get so upset."

That was the wrong thing to say it appeared.

"Get so upset?" Josephine fumed, "have you even considered the consequences of this, not just for your kingdom but also for your wife, for me? Have you thought how it would look when a husband abandons his wife so soon after they have been married? How long will it take for rumours of barrenness, or perhaps infidelity to spread? And then my reputation will be ruined and yours with it!"

Harry stood wordlessly in the opening out to the balcony, he knew he ought to reassure his wife, tell her that all her worries were for nothing and that nothing would happened whilst he was away but as he tried to say the words nothing seemed to come out of his mouth. He knew that all his reassurances and promise would be little more that lies and could not bring himself round to saying them. He knew what they would sound to her ears and it was a difficult enough situation as it was without him being caught lying to her.

"Nothing to say?" Josephine challenged, her eyes ablaze with fury, "silver tongue turned to lead?"

"I can't promise that everything will go well, with me or here whilst I am away," Harry said sadly, "but I can promise I would not be going if I didn't think that I had to, if I was not certain that it was utterly necessary, then I would not and would be staying her with you."

Josephine stepped forward with her hand raised as if she were about to slap him, before seeming to think again and stormed out of the room towards her dressing room. Harry sighed and sat down at the end of the bed with his hands in his head; he had never had much experience with girls and now he was married, that lack of experience was causing him more internal conflict than he had ever felt when he was newly crowned.

"Forgive me, milady," came a voice from the door.

Harry turned round to see Josephine had come back out of her dressing room fully clothed, and brushed angrily past an amused looking Alatar. Quickly throwing on a vest Harry greeted his principal advisor wearily.

"Sorry about Josephine," he said, apologising on her behalf, "as you can see she's a little bit upset at the moment."

Alatar nodded, "told her about your plans to go on your honeymoon solo, then?"

"Ha, funny," Harry mock laughed, "but yeah I did, kind of regretting it at the moment."

"Well, regretting it or not we need to start planning," Alatar said, drawing a map out of his robe pockets, "I have planned a route for you; you with ride north and try to cross the river at Osgiliath, from there you will ride north through Gondor and then Rohan. If you are unable to cross at Osgiliath then ride further north and cross in the Wilderness before coming south again. It is a more dangerous route and longer, but the road through Gondor might be blocked to you."

"And after Rohan?" Harry asked, tracing the routes explained on the map.

"After Rohan, you ride north," Alatar said, before pointing at a ring at the base of a mountain range, "I suggest you stop off at Isenguard, there you will meet the head of my Order, Saruman the White. Telling him I sent you will be enough to get an audience, he is both wise and powerful and if there are many who can interpret the riddle then it is he."

"Ok, so Gondor then Rohan before going to meet your friend in Isenguard," Harry said, memorising the route, "and then what next?"

The old wizard pointed a finger where the map was labelled Arnor, "the ruins of the old kingdom of Arnor are filled with evil creatures; orcs, goblins, trolls and wargs. They are dangerous lands and so I suggest you join a caravan until you get as far north as Bree, from then on you would be best to find one of the old remains of Arnor, the rangers of Eraidor, they should be able to guide you to Rivendell."

"Well, it's not like there is not a lot that could go wrong there!" Harry said wearily.

**********The Traveller**********

Word had spread through the city that their glorious leader had been called by the gods onto pilgrimage and over the week there had been many people coming to him with petitions and requests. Some begged to be allowed to accompany him on his journey but they he politely refused, begging allowance for solitude saying that it was what the gods had demanded. Others came with him asking him to ask the gods for various things, these Harry felt guilty as he promised to do so. He resolved that he would take a list and say a couple prayers each night before he slept, or else whenever he had some free time. That way his promises would be kept.

So it was that Harry was now ready to leave, he was travelling light with little more than a week or so of provisions, his sword and his staff. Malak and Alatar had apparently put a great deal of effort into choosing his horse for him, they said he needed one which would be able to cope with both the extreme heats of the desert summer as well as the cold of the north. It needed to be both fast and hardly, and surprisingly choosing such a beast had taken the most time out of all of the preparations.

Harry had objected saying he could just get another horse when he reached the north, but Malak in particular had been opposed to that, hating the very idea of leaving a beautiful Harad swiftfoot to a "bunch of barbaric northerners with no sense of hygiene and with little wits, who have even less idea of how to properly care for a good horse than they do for themselves". This had amused both Alatar and Harry, but his other advisor concurred with Malak saying that he could not be sure of getting a good horse cheaply in the north.

Carefully and methodically Harry carried out the last of his last minute preparations; checking his stirrups, girth and making sure his water skins were fully of the life giving liquid. As he was doing this, Alatar approached and gave him several last pieces of advice.

"Promise me, Harry, that you will be careful with the elves," Alatar whispered urgently, "do not trust them and be sure not to insult them, for they are a proud people."

"I will," Harry said, clasping the old wizard's hand, "if you promise me to look after my kingdom whilst I am gone."

"I'll do that," Alatar said, with what Harry swore was a slight tear in his eye.

As the old wizard turned around, Harry caught the eye of another standing near the bottom of the steps. Josephine's hair was tied behind her neck in Haradrium fashion, and Harry was sure he had never seen anything that was quite as beautiful as she was in that moment.

"My lord husband," Josephine curtsied as he approached.

Harry winced at the formal greeting, hating the lack of familiarity between himself and Josephine for after the closeness they shared in the couple days they had after the wedding it felt so hollow, so empty.

It was not that he loved her, Harry knew that he didn't but what he could not deny was that he knew that he could come to love her, indeed he would even say that he was fond of his wife. He imagined that such things were common in politically arranged marriages.

"Josephine," he whispered into her ear as he embraced, "all I can say is that I am sorry and that you will see that this is necessary, for all of us."

"I'm sure it is my lord."

Perhaps it was Harry's imagination but in his mind it seemed that that was a little less cold than what he had been receiving for the last couple of days. His lips brushed against her cheek as he said his farewell.

Minutes later a solo figure on the wall watched across the plains as below a lone rider far below her rode into the distance. She placed a hand against her stomach and prayed.

********The Traveller********

It lay below him like it was deep in sleep, the ruins of the great city of Osgiliath. Here was the place that Harry was to be brought after his capture at the hands of the rangers of Gondor years previously and now was the place where he needed to cross the river Anduin to get into Gondorian territory.

From his position on top of the ridge Harry could see the flickering of lights through the darkness, the fires of campsites filled to the brim with Gondorian soldiers, his enemies. Getting through their lines without being caught would be difficult, particular as they would be on high alert with the recent murmurs coming from the east.

Suddenly looking to his right, to the plains beyond the city he saw movement. Three great shapes, miles long and hundreds of metres wide were moving across the plain with great speed and stealth. It took Harry some seconds to realise what they were but upon his realisation he spurred his horse forward at great speed down the slope in the direction of the city.

It was starting, this was the first wave of the great assault on the realms of men, for the three great shapes were columns of men, or rather most likely orcs, beginning their attack on the city. Now all of a sudden the movement of the Nazgul became clearer and with it the purpose of this attack, it was a diversion to allow the Ringwraiths to cross the river much as Harry was trying to do.

Harry was around half way to the city when suddenly streaks of light burst into the night sky, hovering high above the level of the city before plummeting leaving a fiery tail in their wake. The incendiaries smashed into the buildings and even as Harry rode he could see sections of the city ablaze with fire. The element of surprise gone the columns rushed forward with speed burrowed from their old ally the darkness, their enemy the Sun powerless to stop their approach.

As Harry reached the city the bombard continued, even as the first and then the second column reached the city. For the commanders friendly fire causalities meant nothing, and so the Mordor generals were quite happy to maintain their aerial bombardment even as their own troops moved into the city.

Harry broke through one of the old city gates, making his way down a large street that looked like it lead in the direction of one of the city's bridges. He cursed himself as he rode, wishing that he had had the forethought to think about looking up a map of the city before he had left because at the moment the only way he thought he would be able to find the bridge was to ride down on of the bigger roads in the right direction and hope the bridge was at the end of it. If not then he would need to make his way across the waterfront, and with the city slowly filling up with creatures whose orders were to kill every human inside then he wanted to be out of there as soon as possible.

A bright streak across the sky arched above Harry and seemed to wait for the right moment, far above his head, before it fell. The ball of pitch, rags and tar burst onto the stone alley in front of him, bursting into flame. His horse reared immediately and Harry raised an arm to shield his eyes from the vicious heat. Then all of a sudden he was falling backwards, off his horse and onto the hard stone of the floor.

His head smashed hard onto the edge of the pavement and Harry lay there for several moments dazed before sudden movement caught his eye. A dark shape, marked only by the ugly features that marked it as a orc, charged towards him swinging a crude spiked mace. Still dazed Harry was too slow to block its first blow, the spiked nails tearing into his left arm, mangling it horribly. The pain awoke what remained of Harry's survival instincts and he was able to step back to avoid the second blow.

In a moment his dagger was out and he seized the orc's hand as it swung, twisting it round hard into a brutal arm lock before slitting the beast's throat open. Black blood spurted out of the fatal wound at its neck, spraying over Harry's robes.

Wiping his knife clean quickly Harry jammed it back into its sheath, drawing his wand from its own. He had had the best metal smiths in Jaffa make a brace for it in preparation for this journey, a construct of metal that held all the remaining pieces of his wand in place. Now, although Harry did not have his full arsenal of spells at his reach; transfiguration and most charms were still beyond it even in its repaired state, he no longer had to fear that it would break with every time he had used. In addition Alatar had added a neat little component to the construct, a small poisoned knife like a bayonet that with a press of a button sprung out the end for use in close quarters.

More movement brought Harry's attention back to his surroundings as an orc burst from the cover of burning building as another two came from Harry's left. With a quick "depulso!", one of the orcs was thrown right back into the burning building he had just escaped, his cries of agony as his body was burnt to cinders easily blocked out by Harry as he focused on the other two who were practically right on him.

"Diffindo!"

The cutting curse was the only curse that Harry was going to be able to get off before they were on him, and he made it count as it opened a deep cut in the foremost orc's chest. It went down but the other was on him. Ducking Harry flipped him over his shoulder and sent him flying into the incendiary which had startled Harry's horse earlier. It sought to rise to escape the burning heat before it consumed him, but before he was able to get to his feet Harry seized the still breathing body of his comrade whose chest had been ripped open and thrown it onto of him, pinning both to the flaming embrace of the fire.

Shouts caused Harry to turn round and a group of around twenty of them charging at him, from the other end of the street. Quickly Harry brought his wand up and waited for the right moment. It came moments later as the group passed underneath a overhanging balcony that had been set alight by one of the orcs' siege weapons.

"Reducto!"

His curse brought down the remaining supports of the balcony and it collapsed onto the street, burying the group in a mess of burning wood, stone and fire. Realising that he would have to make the rest of the way on foot Harry started to run down the street in the direction of the water front.

Soon he was joined by others, men in armour and bearing weapons who spared him not a second glance. As he ran he realised he was amongst the stragglers of a retreat, those that ran with him were those that had to run the furthest, were the ones who were wearing the heaviest armour and those that had blood streaming down from wounds on their bodies. Throughout the city echoed hunting calls of orcs and other foul demons in concert with screams of pain, of agony and of torture wretched from human mouths.

Men began to fall behind, only to be swallowed up by the masses of enemies streaming out behind them from streets, alleys and roads. It was a hunt, and they were the prey, being herded in the only direction to which they could run and being picked off as soon as they tired. Now they were down to just eight of them running; the fittest, least wounded and lightest burdened among them and even then they were still being picked off, some because they fell behind others falling to the arrows of the few archers their enemies had among their ranks.

Eventually they made one last turn and saw the bridge in front of them. Below them arranged at the head of the bridge there was a small group of men, wearing proudly the silver armour of Gondor and bearing its mark of the White Tree. One in the centre caught Harry's attention, standing directly beneath the banner, shouting orders at his men was their commander. Reddish brown hair he had and his very voice seemed to steady his men with new resolve to combat the approaching horde. Behind him stood a group in brown and green, releasing volley after volley of arrows at the approaching orcs. Harry realised with a grimace that they must be the rangers, probably some of the same who had captured and tortured him.

Behind them workers worked desperately collapsing the bridge so that none would be able to cross after them. Bodies of the dead, both human and otherwise, lay before that wall of shields, and Harry knew hope. Harry ran fiercely, secretly glad for all those days being chased as a boy, the three with him being to fall behind as the orcs began to gain ground on them.

"Run!" Harry said, shouting back to them.

It was not enough and he watched painfully as the men, weighted down by the heavy armour as they were, were swallowed by the approaching horde one by one until Harry was the only one running. He was now only thirty metres from the line of silver soldiers under the banner of the White Tree, but the orcs were only ten metres behind him. He would make it, only just though.

At that moment he felt something slimly and warm grasp his ankle and bring him toppling down. Turning desperately he saw that one of the orcs who had been playing dead had seized his ankle and was wheezing with pathetic sadistic laughter as its life slowly ebbed from his body from a wound in its side.

They were almost on him, he could see their faces and see the anticipation of sadistic pleasure building up in their eyes. Then his eyes caught something, a face that shouldn't be there, a human face amidst the sea of orcish ones. It was a face Harry recognised. The last time he had seen it he had been in a field far away to the south, in a situation like this one with bodies like all over the ground, their blood soaking into the sand. The last time Harry had seen this face he had unleashed upon its owner the worst curse known to wizard-kind, the cruciatus curse.

It was Murad.

Gone in his eyes was the cunning, the intelligence and the ambition that had been some of the few qualities that Harry had admired in him and replacing them was something that only served to terrify Harry. Pure insanity.

Murad's eyes terrified Harry in ways that Voldemort's red ones had never, with Voldemort you got the sense you were looking into the eyes of a snake, a predator; a creature both cunning and viscous but also something that has a desire to survive, to flourish and one which knows when it was beaten. Voldemort's eyes, despite their colour, were still human though the basest level of humanity possible, whereas Murad's were something else entirely. There was no humanity there, no sign of anything vaguely resembling sanity.

Those eyes made Harry afraid. Those eyes met Harry's, and the creature that had once been Murad, the creature that Harry had created, smiled a look of pure destructiveness. Harry knew in that moment that there would be no survival, no surrender, no escape.

* * *

**AN: Sorry about the cliffhanger but I could not resist it. Lots in the chapter, Murad, Josephine and a future meeting with some Gondorians who Harry does not get on very well with. ****My redo has totally morphed itself into a completely new story, something I did not intend but am going to carry on with. So those who don't like redoes (I would count myself as one of those) feel free to read it, it is really quite different.**

**T Horn**


	17. Clearing up some things

**First of all, to make things plain because so many have asked there has been no new chapter. When redoing the first couple of chapters of this story I accidentally added it onto the end which is why everyone got a message saying there was a new chapter. So to repeat there has been no new chapter just me doing so continuity corrections throughout the earlier chapters.**

**These corrections will continue so if you get a message saying that there has been an update between now and next Friday (when I am planning to put up the next chapter) then it will be because I have replaced a chapter and not because there is a new update. I hope to get a new chapter up next Friday but if not then I will get it up sometime that weekend.**

**Sorry for the confusion and I hope that straightens things out,**

**T Horn**


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